


Acorns And Arrogance

by Shay_Moonsilk



Series: Acorns And Arrogance Universe [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Gen, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, pride and prejudice au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must in be in want of a wife. Only not man, but dwarf. And not wife, but partner.  This is the story of the children of Belladonna and Bungo Baggins, specifically Ori and Bilbo. This is the story of their quest of going on adventures, falling in and out of love, facing prejudice, dealing with pride, and yet somehow living happily ever after.  </p><p> In short, this is the Pride and Prejudice AU that no one asked for, but would not leave me alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the Bagginshield Pride and Prejudice AU that no one asked for, but wouldn't stay out of my head until I wrote it. I'm not going to post a character guide - it'll be pretty obvious who is filling what general role. But I'm also trying not to copy and paste the multi-dimensional Tolkien characters into the characters from Jane Austen's book. For instance, Belladonna Took is playing a similar role to Mrs. Bennet, but the two could not possibly be more different. Updates will come every Wednesday. 
> 
> Thank you for your time. I bid you well, but also patience and understanding. I have not published a fanfiction in over five years, and have never written for this fandom before, though I adore it so.

_It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must in be in want of a wife._

   “Well that’s certainly not true. I’m not a man. Or was in want of a wife.”

   “Hush you. I’m writing about Dwalin here.”

   “He was neither a man nor in want of a wife either.”

   “I said hush.”

   The first man gave a smirk. It was also a truth universally acknowledged that the dwarrow lived to rile his hobbit. But he had a premonition that mentioning said statement to said aforementioned hobbit would only serve to have said hobbit wave an arm at him until the dwarrow left. And he would prefer not to leave.

   “Now… where was I…”

   “Man in search of a wife.”

   And there was the arm flapping.

===

   It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single ~~man~~ dwarrow in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a ~~wife~~ partner.

Though what that had to do with a family of hobbits, now, that was the interesting part.

   “Bungo, you need to be reasonable. It is very important to Dori that we escort Ori to Bree so he may meet the Fundin family! Dori also hinted that if they take to him, they may find a match!”

   “Bree is two weeks away, and I’m not packing this family all the way there and back to be judged by strangers.”

   “These are not strangers, these are good people. Dori would not lead us astray!”

   That was true, Bungo mused, closing his eyes as if to nap in his favorite arm chair. Despite the pandemonium of the only time he met the other dwarf, Dori respected punctuality and propriety. A man – nay – a dwarf after his own heart.

   “Don’t you close your eyes on me!” Belladonna was having none of her husband’s attempts to tune away from the conversation. It was amusing when he did it to an irritable cousin, but it was simply not to be done to his wife.

   “Ori needs the chance to socialize with other similar to him, and he is already of age. We need to make sure that he is provided for, and can find the opportunity to provide for himself outside of the Shire.” That was the last thing Bungo wanted to be reminded of. Bad enough he had children coming of age. But leaving the Shire, let alone Bad End? Well, he knew the day would eventually come.

   “I doubt he’ll enjoy the forced socialization.” Belladonna said nothing. She was a clever hobbit, and could sense a virtual pause in her husband’s sentence. “But of course your right.” He paused a moment, and cracked an eye to witness the self-pleased smile she gave him. “Which,” He continued, “Is why I arranged for a carriage to take us there this weekend. Enough time to be respectable at the Prancing Pony.”

   The laugh Belladonna gave was anything but respectable, and she threw her arms around Bungo in delight. Although he pretended to look disgruntled, he allowed himself a smile. 

 


	2. The Beginnings of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unconventional means in which Belladonna and Bungo acquire their three (perfect, if you were to ask them. Or even if you were to not ask them, as too many learned the hard way) children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got away from me. I was originally going to put it in the prolouge, but this chapter carries heavy exposition that deserved its own chapter. It also explains why a young Dwarrow is living with hobbits. I took a few favorite fandom cliches and liberties to work it out. I'm also working with a source I read that states Hobbits reach maturity at 33, and Dwarrows begin their trade around the same age, (so I interpret that as a maturity aspect as well). I also took creative licence in changing the ages of the characters. This does not fall in Tolkien cannon, but nothing about the main plot in the story is cannon, so I hope you forgive me.

Chapter 1: The Beginnings of Family

Bungo Baggins was oft described as a respectable hobbit and a true Baggins – worthy of the high name. He was a rather stout man, firm and astute. One could always count him as a particularly amiable host, always cordial and polite to any who crossed his path with nary a stern word. Whenever he was expected to call upon an engagement, he would do so promptly and efficiently. His buttons were always shined and gleamed, and there was never a speck of his outfit that was untidy. Bungo was a fine, upstanding member of their community, and their home of Bag End was always held in high regard. The Hobbit never went on any adventures, or did anything unexpected.

Though, some might say marrying Belladonna Took was very adventurous, and certainly unexpected.

Belladonna Baggins was, simply put – or rather not simply – a force of nature. While she was a perfectly lovely host, and did her best to attend social functions and engagements in a timely fashion, her punctuality was something to be worked on. When speaking to her, she always let you know exactly what was on her mind, and let you know whether she liked you or not. She didn’t care much for shining brass buttons or keeping her clothing as tidy as her husband. In their community, she was regarded as an odd-ball. Despite her eccentricities, and they were many, there were two things that absolutely no one could doubt about the former Took.

1)    That she loved her husband Bungo, and the beautiful home he built for them

2)    That she loved her children even more, and Yavanna help whomever upset them.

It was the children, or child in particular, that she spoke of. For many different reasons, Belladonna only ever birthed one child, a perfectly lovely Bilbo Baggins, who, if one asked his mother, was incapable of doing wrong. But she and her husband both had big hearts with more love to give. Through a series of events, they adopted two children to add in their home.

The first they came by a mutual agreement. In Belladonna’s incredibly wild youth, she had traveled all throughout Middle Earth and met an incredible range of different diverse characters, from elves to men to dwarrows and hundreds of monsters. One such dwarrow she met went by the name Dori. Belladonna remembered him fondly, and his fussy nature and preference for proper tea times and propriety reminded her of a certain hobbit she admired from back home. So a good portion of her time in Ered Luin was spent with him. Upon returning to Hobbiton, the two kept correspondence, and Bella later wrote to him about her marriage, her husband, and later her baby boy. Dori told her about his family, and offered congratulations for her many exciting updates. But he offered no real news about his life.

So imagine their surprise when, out of the blue, he appeared on her door step, in the middle of the night, with a young child no less!

It turned out that Dori’s family had fallen on hard times. Shortly after Belladonna left, their mother got very sick, and died after having little Ori – who Dori introduced the shy young child as. His middle brother, Nori (who Belladonna did not see very much of while she was there) had resorted to thieving to keep their family afloat, but had been caught one too many times. As pertinence so the young man would not lose an arm, Dori was to serve as an indentured servant to the family while Nori served his jail sentence. But that left neither brother with the ability to care for the small child. Dori apologized a thousand times over for no forewarning – he had only one week to get his affairs in order before reporting back, and did not have the time to write of his arrival. If they could only please watch him, it would be only for a little while, he would of course pay them back for everything once he had the means, and he would greatly appreciate it for their trouble.

Bungo, in a display that had shocked his wife, stared deep into the dwarrow’s eyes and told him, “My wife and I would be honored to look after your little one for you. Think nothing of it. Do what you need, and do not worry about paying us a thing.” He then resorted to the famed Baggin’s stubbornness when Dori tried to disagree with the last statement, by leaning back in his favorite armchair, pretending to sleep. Belladonna laughed at both the antics of her dear friend and her husband. She then told Dori a little white lie (that Bungo would eventually come to “see reason” after a while, even though she secretly agreed), for the same of arranging specific details. While the two wrote up a contract to work out the specific details, little Ori had been left to sit in the couch with an untouched cup of tea in his hands.

By that point, little Bilbo, only a year old, had been woken by the commotion and made his way into the sitting room, with every intent to complain about the noises. But the other child had distracted him, for he had never seen one look so different, or scared.

“Who are you?” Bilbo asked, in a rare show of Took-ish curiosity. The unusual child looked back at him. “I’m Ori. Who’re you?” “My name is Bilbo Baggins.” Ori didn’t look quite as scared, but he looked very sad. He even had tears on his face. Bilbo frowned. He didn’t know Ori, but Ori was a guest, and guests should not be said. “Why are you sad?” Ori trembled. “Dori has to go away, and Nori is in jail, and I’m gonna be living here and far away from there.” Bilbo didn’t know what a Dori or Nori were, but it seemed like that meant Ori would be living with him for a while. “Well, that won’t be so bad. It’s nice here, and we’ll be living together. You can be my big brother.” The other child paused. He hadn’t considered that he could be a big brother to someone. And this kid was even smaller then him! “I guess I could. But can you be my friend first? I have two brothers, but no friends.” Bilbo deemed that logical, and nodded.

You could say a beautiful relationship was born.

After Dori left, with a tearful goodbye and a promise to write every moment he was able, The Baggins family now had an extra child. For the convenience of it, Bella and Bungo signed official paperwork to adopt Ori so they could care for him properly, until Dori could come back for him. Though they all knew it wouldn’t be for a while – Nori had a truly impressive debt, and their mother’s expenses did not vanish upon her death. Dori wrote to them as often as he could, but updates from him only came once a month, at most. But he knew he had made the right decision. The Baggins’ wrote to him at least once a week, and Ori couldn’t be happier where he was. Bella loved having a second child to care for, Bungo had a second avid listener to the importance of cleanliness and punctuality, and little Bilbo now had a best friend and an older brother.

The addition of Frodo four years later had been just as abrupt.

Primula and Drogo Brandybuck were the Baggin’s favorite extended family members. Primula always sweets for Bilbo and Ori when they visited, and Drogo could always tell a good story. While the parents had different interests, personalities, and hobbies, they all had even temperaments and, more importantly, had similar opinions about their other family members. After Ori had been with the Baggins family for two years, Primula had a young son named Frodo. After Frodo turned one, his parents named Bella and Bungo the godparents, for while new parents had a plethora of different cousins to choose from, their selflessness in carrying for Ori showed them that their favorite cousins were ideal candidates to take care of Frodo, Yavanna forbid anything possibly happen to them.

But then something happened to them.

No more than six months after the official declaring of their wills, the couple – far too young – were swept away in a terrible accident. Baby Frodo had no idea what had happened, but he soon became child number three in Bag End.

Belladonna and Bungo thought Frodo was a lovely child, and were honored to be named godparents. But they had naively assumed that it had been just an idea. Nevertheless, the two took Frodo in and he became the perfect addition they never thought the needed.  

And thus, Bungo and Belladonna Baggins raised three young boys into respectable young adults. Ori, at 35, never truly let go of his shyness, but was an avid reader and writer, and the finest artist in all of Hobbiton (if you ever asked his adopted parents, and you would find that they would tell you even if you never asked). Bilbo, at 32, was also a proficient writer and very gifted in cartography and scientific research, and while he was a truly respectable Baggins (to his father’s great delight), if provoked he could give quite the thorough tongue-lashing (to his mother’s delight). And Frodo, only being 27 years old, was only just getting out of the habit of pulling consistent practical jokes on friends and neighbors (to his adopted father’s relief and adopted mother’s disappointment).

Nevertheless, they were a happy family.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Comments? Advice? Bemoans of Despair? 
> 
> Message me through the apparatus, or through my Tumblr at JMiracles (my blog)


	3. On Family and Invitations Received

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori thinks about his family from before and now, and Bungo ponders a cryptic invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one important change in this story that has only just revealed itself to me - Dis will be older then Thorin in this story. It will make sense as the story goes on. Also, if you are following, this update is contrary to my "updates every Wednesday" policy. Forgive me - the promise of updates on Wednesday is my promise an update will always come next Wednesday, to prove that I will not leave this story to die. I know very much the direction it is headed, and even have the plot for sequels that center on Ori and Frodo (because this will get to a more Bagginshield point soon).

Chapter Three

            Ori knew that where he came from, he had two older brothers. But the deep truth, that he only ever told Bilbo and absolutely no one else, was that his memories of them were fuzzy at best. His first memories involved a female face, hands stroking his hair, and a rhythmic humming that had always put him to sleep. The memories then took shape the older he got, but with a man’s voice instead. This man was just as nice though – he gave the best hugs, and put him to bed, and was always there for him. He could also remember laughter from another voice, though could not always match the voice to a face.

            But their likes, dislikes, hobbies, or worries? Ori had no idea. He only had painful memories of being wet from a rainy night, hugging his favorite dwarf good-bye. After that, his memories were of his hobbit parents: of Mama Belladonna (she always insisted on the distinction, because she liked to remind him that he had a mother, one who loved him very much, one who was waiting in the great after-life, and she was his mother too, but only to raise him in this life and not to replace his birth mother), and Papa (he had no father, so as far as the Hobbits or even Dori were concerned his father was Bungo and that was that, and that was fine because Bungo told the best stories and had the funniest rules and the shiniest buttons). He also had little brother Bilbo (who did become his best friend first, but his little brother shortly after, and it was nice being the older brother even though Bilbo was close in age to him so they got to play and tell each other all their secrets because Bilbo was the best), and his littler brother Frodo (who was always so small and tiny and even though he wasn’t tiny anymore he was still small and too adorable). This was the family he grew up with, and there were extended cousins and friends, but nothing could beat his adopted parents and best friends/brothers.

            The other secret that only Bilbo knew was that Ori considered them to be his family. There was Dori back home, but Dori was all he knew from the Other Place.

            Mama Belladonna had stories of the Other Place to help him when he couldn’t remember, though. She could tell him about wide streets, living under mountains, and how punctual Dori always was. Even though Ori could only distantly know him, it didn’t stop him from enjoying the stories. Or from communicating with Dori as often as he could. That was why the one chore that was his and his alone was to check the mail, because then he would get to see any letter from Ered Luin as soon as it arrived. The letters addressed to him were always beautifully written in the special secret language his birth mother and Dori used to sing to him in, and later taught him to read and write in. So it got to be his choice whether he told Frodo or Bilbo or Papa or Mama Belladonna what it said. He always told them though.  

            The letters would also include a message to Bungo and Belladonna about his progress at paying off his other debts, and Nori’s rehabilitation. The rehabilitation came upon his release from jail, which had been three years after Frodo came to live with them.  Nori’s progress was slow, but steady. Ori’s eldest brother always used careful diction, but Belladonna knew her friend well enough to read between the lines when discussing the middle Ri brother. It was hardly flattering, but given the unfortunate situation of having his baby brother so far away, it was to be expected. The severity of the tone he used with Nori also let up as the years went on, until they were downright civil in recent years. In the beginning, the letters did not come as frequent as either adult had hoped. Dori had been overwhelmed by tasks and barely had time to sleep, let alone write. But after several months, and both he and Ori settled in to their new lives, and a routine struck and was kept to one letter precisely every two months.

            Dori was not very forthcoming on the family that he was working for, he only mentioned that they were kind. The letters hinted that the dwarf family included two young sons, but the elder dwarf never included many details. Bungo speculated it was because seeing children so close to Ori’s age was too painful. Belladonna agreed. But the hobbit parents were grateful for the children, because as they grew, Dori began to instruct them in etiquette, and gained more access to pen and paper. His letters soon became once a month, and then twice a month. Every now and then, he mentioned a Lady Dis, whom he wrote was his boss. Figuring out how he truly felt about her was tricky. In his letters, she was described as elegant, and noble. But also very young – younger than a lady with children would normally be in her position. There was no outright, or subtle, criticism. And he always made a point to add that he was thankful for her generosity in arranging for Nori’s alternative sentence. He frequently reference the debt the family owed.

His most recent letter was what gave the cause for commotion in poor Bungo’s life. For the past year, Dori had been hinting that in just a few moments time, his sentence would be over. Until finally, but one short month ago, Ori received the shortest message Dori had ever sent, and Bungo and Belladonna had received the following letter:

_To Bungo and Belladonna Baggins,_

_It would seem the time we have spoken for so long about has come to pass. By the time this letter reaches you, my service of employment in regards to my brother Nori will have ended. As we agreed many years ago, I am arranging to come back to retrieve Ori. However, I will not so abruptly snatch him and dash out your front door. We never did settle the issue of payment – and no matter how many naps Bungo may attempt to take we will settle a tangible amount of payment. Additionally, I will need some time to arrange my next few steps, and I know Ori will not be so easily uprooted._

_Two neighboring dwarrows to my residence had plans to journey to Bree. They are the sons of Fundin – Balin and Dwalin. Bella, you briefly met Balin when you were here last. Balin asked that I invite you to meet us in Bree for dinner, to formally introduce you all. After such time, I would accompany you back to Bag End and we can settle our unfinished business._

_Awaiting your response at the earliest convenience,_

_Dori_

            Bungo had debated the sincerity of the letter. His wife had always said the Dwarrow was very much like himself. Dori’s letter sounded exactly like the kind of invitation one would write if he hoped – from the bottom of his heart – that the invitee would not accept. He knew because if it were him, it would have been written exactly the same way he would write it. But the problem was this: what did Dori not want them to accept? In every letter he made sure to mention how much he missed his precious brother, and thanked them for even the most inconsequential of updates, so it wasn’t his receiving Ori at long last. Dori also liked Bag End, so it couldn’t possibly be his need to stay there for a while (and he ignored the mention of “tangible payment.” Clearly, Dori did not understand the stubbornness of a Baggins when their mind was truly made up.). If anything, the longer they staed, the better in Bungo’s opinion. He liked Ori – the lad could have made a perfectly respectable hobbit in another life – and the Hobbit had no desire to see him leave. No, it had to be about meeting the other two dwarrows. Though it made no sense. Dori never mentioned any sons of Fundin in any previous letter he’d sent. Also, Belladonna’s time in Ered Luin had been so long ago, the only dwarf she could remember with absolute clarity was Dori. She could not attest to either Balin or Dwalin.

            If anything, Bungo thought, they should be grateful to have the opportunity to meet the two dwarrows who were escorting Ori’s older brother to him safely after all these years. And that they would have the chance to thank them properly, even if it was only to Bree.

            And maybe it was his wife’s horrible habits were rubbing off on him at long last, but Bungo, ever so secretly, wanted the change to travel and meet new people.

            But if ever a hint was said to Belladonna, he would steadfastly deny it.

            It was why, after they read the letter, and before Belladonna could seriously attempt to convince him, he made to borrow the carriage that Hamfast Gamgee owned and arranged for a few ponies to take them there and back again.

            Also, she had brought up a good point that had been going through his mind as well. Ori had been brought up and was surrounded by Hobbits his entire life. While that was perfectly, fine, his adopted parents realized that they were doing their oldest boy no favors when the time came to re-enter his original home with Dori. And that time had come. So, despite the confusing message Dori was sending about the brothers, the fact of the matter was that they were dwarrows, and Ori needed all the socialization with them he could get. Besides, Belladonna was right about another thing.

            It couldn’t hurt if he possibly struck a match with one of them. It was time he became a grandpa. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will feature more dialogue (which concerns me but we will brave through it!) and we will meet Dwalin and Balin. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Concerns? 
> 
> Message me through the apparatus.


	4. Of Delightful Afternoons, and the Politics of Seating Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori and Dori are finally reunited. Balin plays host, and then seating arrangements are carefully designed by Bilbo and Belladonna. They should now be set to enjoy dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it seems instead of chapter once a week, I should have said chapter once a day. But I've learned to write when the urge hits, and the urge is hitting. Also, I'd forgotten the positive reinforcement that comes with positive reviews. My thanks for them! 
> 
> We're also finally getting into the story! The exposition has now paid off! 
> 
> Also, thanks for the reviews again. They've given me ideas for the story. I hadn't considered basing it off the movie - I've been basing it off of the book, and next chapter will feature an idea from Bride and Prejudice. 
> 
> I'm posting this in a hurry for I cannot wait for you to read it as much as I cannot wait to write it. When I get back from grocery shopping, I'll be sure to start the next chapter.

Chapter 4

            Most of the time, Dori prided himself on being organized and calm in the face of panic. He’d served under the household of the Princess under the mountain _and_ looked after her two young children. He could deal with the Heir Apparent under the mountain on his worst day. He’d served tea to the family who jailed his brother. He’d taken the other brother he’d raised, and put his welfare in the hands of hobbits. It was a veritable fact that there was little Dori could not handle under pressure.

            But he was panicking now.

            Honestly, he thought his friendship with Belladonna and Bungo had passed to the point of nonverbal communication. He mistakenly believed that they could read between the lines and know that he did not want them to come to Bree. They knew he was more than capable of getting himself from Bree to Bag End with no fuss. Honestly – he thought Bungo would be on his side!

            Belladonna was ruining that man.

            Truthfully, he had no honest reason for not wanting the two families to meet – only his own pride. Dwalin was the head Dwarf who had arrested his brother so many times, finally leading to his own service. Not that it was solely Dwalin’s fault – he’d be a fool not to recognize the fault in his own brother. But he did not need the first occasion in which Ori re-entered Dwarven society to be spent with his brother’s jailor.  Even though Nori was doing remarkably well since his release, the Captain still regarded him as a criminal. And if he’d be that judgmental, Dori did not want him to intimidate his precious Ori.

            Oh Ori.

            The last time he’d seen the child, the lad had been bawling, holding onto his leg until Bungo pried him off. Balin had forced his pony into a gallop that very night – had he stayed any longer, he would never have left, or simply taken Ori into the night. Seeing his younger brother raised by strangers (he’d known Belladonna Took was a lovely and trustworthy Hobbit lass, but she was only a treasured acquiantence) had been torture. And for his tasks to include partially teaching Kili and Fili, well, that had been icing on the proverbial cake. Nevertheless, he grew accostumed to his day-to-day responsibilities, and once he let his anguish go (though it certainly took a while), he found the young prices a delight, and their mother a fine dwarrowdam, and a lovely Princess for their race.

            But that didn’t mean he needed to necessarily be in the social circle now that his service was up. Everytime he glanced at one of them as he prepared to leave, he could see it in the back of their eyes. In the way that a member of the royal family turned to ask something of him, only to visibly catch themselves as if to say, _‘That’s right – we can’t order him anymore.’_ Dori was too proud to put up with that. He could not be in the company of those who had seen him as a servant. Even if they were royal. Which brought him to a different dilemma entirely.

            “Do you think they ran into trouble?”

            Ah, Balin. The perfectly stout, handsome, and certainly most attractive dwarf Dori had ever met. Oh he felt no shame in admitting it to himself. He’d always found it best to be honest and open with your feelings, even if you had no intention of ever sharing them publicly. And he had no intention of any such thing. For, as it had been stated before, he’d served tea _to_ Balin far too many times to truly enjoy having it _with_ him now. Dori had informed the elder dwarf, only out of politeness and politeness alone, that he would be waiting for his brother and his adopted family in the restaurant part of the inn. He must not have made his distinction clear, for Balin took it to be an invitation and insisted on having tea with him.

            “Not at all. I would assume that Bungo arranged for a carriage for them all. They are a family of five now.” Let it never be said that Dori was uncordial. “Of course, I forget. It certainly is a peculiar story how they came to five.” The courtesan must have seen the hurt look Dori tried to hide. He could’ve kicked himself – how Dwalin would laugh if he could see him. Him – Balin – the silver-tongue courtier getting into knots! Well forgive him; Dori had always thrown him for a loop. “I’m sorry” he backtracked, “I didn’t mean-““I know what you mean.” Dori said icily. Balin felt his heart sink. “But I don’t regret what I did. You’ll see for yourself – Bungo and Belladonna did a better job I could have done for my Ori.” Balin was silent. Finally, “Forgive me Dori. I only remarked what I did because of how peculiar it is to happen upon such a large family, when the parents truly only had one child.”

            And who could stay mad at that face? “Oh, it’s alright,” Dori said sheepishly, “I get defensive when I feel my choices are questioned.”

            “You did the right thing – I don’t know what I could have done in your situation. It was very brave of you.” Mahal – had he no tact! He’d promised to do Dori better then shameless flattery! Though the slight blush was attractive.

            Thankfully, Dori did not have to reply to the compliment – a good thing too, for there was no way he could have – by an all-too-familiar voice instructing a valet for the inn outside. _Ori_ …

            Without a second thought, the eldest Ri brother stood and headed toward the door. Balin almost followed, but thought better of it. He’d sat with Dori, uninvited he knew, to try and calm the poor Dwarrow’s nerves. But now was the time for him to see his brother again.

\--

On the carriage ride to Bree, and the days leading to it, Ori had spent his time in waves. The first wave, he was completely silent, and still. He had received the letter one week to the day, but the meaning of it hadn’t truly set in. To him, there was no life outside of the Shire. There was Bree of course, but to him Bree was as far as there was. He’d heard of Rivendell, Gondor, Rohan and Dale. But they were far-off, distant places that meant nothing to him beyond the books that he’d read and the accounts on their histories he had written for trade practice. But now he’d have to deal with the place, and Yavanna knew he was not cut out for that.

This lead to the second wave, which was panicking. Mostly it consisted of him saying what he previously thought outloud; whispered at first, loudly at second, crying at third, fourth, fifth and so on. It was too terrifying. Thankfully, this wave (truly the most embarrassing of them all) did not last long, and happened the day before the carriage ride. Mama Belladonna had held him while he cried, and then Frodo had crawled into bed with him, not wanting Big Brother Ori to be sad if there was something he could do. Bilbo also joined them, hugging him from behind. None of them could exactly offer advice on how to deal with the far-off places (it wasn’t like they’d be seeing them) but they reminded him that he really wouldn’t be alone.

The third wave was sadness, because he did not want to leave his family behind. Dori was always going to be special, but Ori did not want to leave his adopted family for ever and ever. Papa had helped him work through that one.

            “Don’t worry lad. Your brother needs to figure out his next step, which he’ll be doing here. There’s certainly no need to pack yet.” Then, his face broke into a rare – some would say mischievous grin – “Besides, he’s still on about this ridiculous notion of paying. It’s gonna take some time before he gets weighed down there.” That had earned Bungo the first laugh he’d heard the child (because he may be of age but he was a _child_ ) make since this whole ordeal had started.

Finally, he settled on the most recent one, and that was the one the Baggins’ family was stuck with for the entirety of the ride: Worry. Which led to fretting.

            “What if Dori thinks I’m too different?” This was asked to Bilbo. Both Bungo and Belladonna were outside of the carriage, directing the ponies. It was truthfully a one-hobbit job, but a combination of them wanting to enjoy the ride together, with the knowledge that they should give the children time alone to talk, led them outside.

            “Dori’s counting on you being different.” Bilbo replied bluntly. That’s why they were such good friends – they were always honest. “He left you under the care of hobbits, not dwarrows. Besides, if they give you any trouble, let them know you’re perfectly respectable.” To cheer his brother up, he said the last bit in an impression of their Papa. It wasn’t his best, but it was enough for Frodo to laugh and Ori to give a thankful smile.

            “What do you think Balin or Dwalin will be like? Mama Belladonna thinks either could be a match.”

            Bilbo rolled his eyes. “She’s been saying that since you turned 30.”

            Frodo chimed in, “Why – are you hoping one of them is looking and loaded?” The very language of the question from a child the two still saw as an infant left them both spluttering. The littlist hobbit patiently waited them out. Ori turned to Bilbo, hoping the middle child would tell Frodo off, but, to his horror, Bilbo was looking at him.

            “Well, what do you think Ori? Want to find a match?”

            “Let me see my brother first!” The two hobbits laughed. Ori let himself crack a smile. He was feeling less nervous now. “Besides,” he said, deciding he may as well enjoy himself before they get to Bree, “If you care to remember, a certain cousin of ours has firmly stated that I am a prude who will grow to be a spinster.” The other too shuddered at the mention of Lobelia. “As if.” Nothing distracted Bilbo quite like a chance to gossip about his least favorite cousin – his one unapologetic vice, “You see the way she’ll carry on, flirting with every hobbit who crosses her path? It’s going to drag the family name down for certain.” Frodo frowned at the gossiping. “Sam says it’s impolite to gossip about others for doing what they like.”

            “And if Sam asked you to eat nothing but mushrooms for a week – would you?” Bilbo shot back. Frodo was undeterred, “He knows more about gardening – so maybe!” Ori rolled his eyes. “I’ll get Papa if you two don’t stop.” Neither responded to the claim, but the words had the desired effect.

\--

            Upon arriving in Bree, Bungo hopped off the carriage to speak with the valet about caring for the horses and where the carriage would go. Belladonna gave herself a fond smile at the stern tone he was using with the poor man. She made sure her children got out alright, and were no worse for wear when the front door opened.

            Though she would deny it to her dying day, Belladonna had been worried about the reunion between Ori and Dori when the time came. Ori had been so small when he was left with them, and much of his memories of Ered Luin faded to obscurity, although he always remembered Dori fondly. And the poor elder brother had been through Morder and back to make sure one brother would be cared for while the other could clear his name. But she did not want the homecoming for either dwarf to be awkward, and she worried that her role as mother would interfere in how Ori perceived his family.

            Her worries were for naught.

            The minute the door opened and her dear friend stepped out, Ori forgot all respectability (making her quite proud) and launched himself at his elder brother. Dori, (who, if memory served, had always been strong for a dwarf) caught him with ease – and held him tight. Ori silently cried, and, while Dori said nothing, she saw a few tears roll down his cheeks. It was a long time coming.

            Belladonna decided to leave the two to their moment, and led the rest of the Baggins family indoors. Upon walking through, they were greated by another hobbit, who had been enjoying tea at one of the tables, though he stood when they walked in. He introduced himself with a, “Balin, at your service,” and a polite half-bow. She could appreciate the mannerisms. “Belladonna Baggins, and yours. And this is my husband Bungo, and our boys Bilbo and Frodo. Our third is outside.” Balin smiled at her. “Yes, I was enjoying tea with Dori just now. Why don’t we sit while we wait for them to come back?” The adults agreed, and they took their places at the table while Balin waved over more cups.

            “So,” Belladonna began after a moment. It appeared it would fall on herself and Balin to maintain conversation. “How do you know Master Dori?” Bilbo and Frodo were still eyeing everything with a childlike wonder, while Bungo was taking his usual time to become re-acclimated to a new environment.  Balin took a sip, mulling over his answer. “Well,” he said finally, “Dori was in the service of a good friend of ours, and my brother and I saw him frequently.”  

            “And what is your relationship with the Master Dori?” Let it never be said that Belladonna was one to beat around the bush. Her intuition was speaking to her, in the same way it had spoken to her about Bungo all those years ago, or about the way young Samwise could never take his eyes off Frodo. “What led you and your brother to escort my dear friend?”

            Well, Balin hadn’t quite expected _that_. “For this trip,” He said, carefully avoiding the other question, “My brother and I are expected to meet our other friend on our way to Rivendell.” At the mention of the elven home, he caught the attention of Bilbo and Frodo, who’d always been fascinated by the stories their mother had – far more than Ori who never held more than polite interest for the sake of hearing Mama Belladonna speak.

            “You know elves?” Frodo asked, and Belladonna let herself lean back. She was no fool – it was so obvious how the dwarrow maneuvered himself out of answering her earlier question that even Bungo was giving her a dubious look at his expense.

            Balin allowed himself to be carried away, giving Frodo an indulgent smile as he answered question after question. It was obvious he liked the lad – not hard, Belladonna mused – Frodo was the most likeable hobbit in all of the Shire. It’s how he got away with his many pranks.  Bilbo stayed silent, letting his younger brother ask the bulk of the questions, but he had one of his own every now and then. His were a tad more complicated for Balin, as they asked to the deeper meaning of some of their deep beliefs or observances. At one point, he had to be honest and claim he did not know, but he had several volumes he would be more than happy to loan the hobbit if he were interested. This was met with a polite thanks, and left Balin thinking that it could potentially be possible he just met a good friend. A young one, but Bilbo had a deep insight, and it would be interesting to exchange letters with him.

            The conversation about the elves is when Dori and Ori finally rejoined them. Both were red-faced, and tad splotchy. No-one was callous enough to comment about it.

            “What’re we talking about?” Ori asked, sitting next to Bilbo, while Dori took a seat at his other side, which so happened to put him next to Balin.

            “Balin and Dwalin are headed to Rivendell,” Bilbo replied to him as the conversation went back to Balin and Frodo, “Do Dori is telling us what he knows about Elves.” Ori gave a noncommittal murmur, taking the cup of tea Dori passed to him. Bilbo didn’t expect for Ori to be very talkative at the moment, but had faith that the two would be having a late night conversation later. He instead took the focus off of his older brother to rejoin Frodo’s round of questioning.

             Finally, Bungo finally joined the conversation, “Alright lads, enough. It’s been a long day.” Bilbo fell silent, and cut off Frodo before he could object. “Let’s meet back down in three hours for supper, aye?” This was directed at Balin, who nodded in agreement. As the company stood and got ready to head to their respective rooms, Belladonna overheard Dori say to Bilbo, “And afterwards I hope I could talk about a payment plan.” Rather than reply, Bungo yawned. It took all the Hobbitlass’ strength not to cackle at the look on Dori’s face.

\--

            Bilbo and Ori were the first two to return to the dining table for dinner. When they had went upstairs, Bilbo had all intention of leaving the reunited brothers alone, but to his great surprise, Dori had dragged him into the room he had as well. The elder Dwarrow wanted to hear about their lives from the both of them, for their parent’s letters had made it plain the while the three brothers were all friendly, Ori and Bilbo had a closer bond as they were closer in age.

            After many different stories, Dori told them to head back down early. “I have a series of letters to write to look for employment – I don’t want to impose on your family anymore then I already have.”

            “You haven’t been imposing. No offense, but we’re hoping the search takes a while.” Bilbo answered.

            “Nonsense. I’ll also need to find an apprenticeship for you Ori, and I’m going to make sure I repay Bungo and Belladonna in some fashion. Don’t give me that look!” The last sentence was said sternly, for both Bilbo and Ori were giving him pitying looks.

             “It’s adorable that he thinks he’ll outlast father.” Bilbo remarked as they walked down the hall.

           “I heard that!”

           Chuckling, they sped up their pace to make it back to the dining room.

           “I’ll tell you about what we said outside after dinner,” Ori promised. “You don’t need to feel like you have to.” Bilbo said, but he really did want to know, and the look Ori gave him told him that he knew.

            “Balin seems nice enough.” Bilbo said, after a moment. If they weren’t going to talk about that, they could at least gossip. It was his worst habit, and all the new people they were meeting were not helping. Nor did it help that Ori liked gossiping with him. “Balin is considered really handsome by other dwarrows. And,” his voice lowered, making Bilbo lean in, “I don’t remember him, but I remember his family. He’s friends with royalty. His father was captain of the guard. They’re really wealthy.” That was impressive. Balin carried himself with an air of importance, sure. But Bilbo had assumed it was just being self-confident. The hobbit let out an impressed whistle.

            “You think he’s married?” Ori shook his head. “There’s a certain braid and bead a dwarf wears when married – he doesn’t have it.” Bilbo nodded. “If that’s how he looks, what do you think Dwalin will look like?” Ori mulled it over. “I only know there’s an age difference. He’s forty-five, where Balin is fifty-seven.”

            “Well that puts Dwalin younger than Dori by two years, right?” Ori nodded. He then replied, “Balin is the advisor for the Heir Under the Mountain. Dwalin is supposed to be his head of security.” “Then why are they here, with your brother, and not with this Heir?” Ori didn’t know.

             It was all very confusing. But Bilbo was delighted. “This will make Lobelia so jealous.” He said, beaming. Ori laughed.

            “I see it takes no time to get you two to start gossiping.” Belladonna said, walking with a dwarf neither recognized. Though both knew it had to be Dwalin.

            Said dwarf had striking features. Where his brother had long white hair that was immaculately braided, Dwalin was bald. Where Balin was stout and unassuming, Dwalin was gruff, muscled, and imposing. The two looked like complete opposites, which amused Bilbo for he and Frodo looked more alike, and they were technically cousins.

            “Boys, may I present Master Dwalin,” She took a seat next to Bilbo, leaving the end of the table to her husband.

            Both rose to greet the dwarf. “Dwalin, at your service.” He said, bowing to them both. When he rose, he gave Bilbo a nod, who returned it. Then, he turned to Ori, and also gave a nod. But both Hobbits saw the pause beforehand, and the subtle blush on Ori’s cheeks. The look Bilbo and his mother exchanged told both that the other saw everything.

           “Why don’t you sit with us?” Bilbo asked, gesturing Ori to sit next to his adopted mother, while he pulled out the chair across from the younger dwarf for Dwalin. Bilbo sat next to his brother. Dwalin took the offered seat, and the three sat.

            Dwalin and Ori exchanged polite conversation, asking each other basic questions about their families and interests. Ori was incredibly shy, and stammered every now and then, but Bilbo and Belladonna helped prompt him to give more complete answers. And while he did not have the most conventional childhood, Dwalin seemed interested in how he described the Shire. Bilbo was doing his best to help the conversation along, and avoid the delighted looks his mother was not even pretending to hide.

           While they talked, Frodo joined them. Bilbo was very quick to intercept the youngest Baggins and insist that Frodo sit next to him. Frodo was on the verge of protesting – he’d caught a glimpse of a new dwarf, and what it he knew about elves or other exciting things? – but then Bilbo gave him a _look_ , and then Frodo _saw_. Ori was talking to a stranger, and with minimal help! And the stranger seemed nice. And Mama Belladonna was giving him a look that clearly said, _‘Get in the way of my son meeting my future son-in-law and you will regret it.’_ Frodo quickly agreed, and sat on Bilbo’s other side, and carefully the two brothers talked until Bungo and Dori arrived. Besides, Ori didn’t really need help anymore. Belladonna instead greeted Balin, who took a seat next to his brother, and was soon dragged into a conversation about Erebor with the two younger brothers.

        Bungo and Dori were the last two to arrive, Bungo giving a yawn and sitting next to his wife. Bilbo quickly realized his error as they entered the dining room – he didn’t know why Dori was uncomfortable around the other two, but he clearly was, and if he had to eat with them he should at least sit next to Ori. Looking as if it were natural, he got up to meet them, and then seamlessly guided Dori to where he was sitting, so he was now sitting next to his brother and across from Balin. Bilbo was about to take a seat next to Frodo, when an unexpected figure altogether stepped through the door.

Conversation stopped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dreadfully sorry for that. But next chapter is on its way. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Worries about the rain causing us to become puddles? Leave a review bellow! Or message me through the apparatus.


	5. An Eventful Dinner, an Unexpected Tea Party, and an Important Gossip Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin has made his appearance, though his manners are rather lacking. Tea time commences, with an unlikely proposition for our heroes. Then, Bilbo and Ori have their Very Important Gossiping Talk. Then, Bilbo sneaks around. The wily hobbit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was worried, when starting this, about writing from Bilbo's perspective, because it wasn't calling to me. But now I understand when fiction writers say, "the character would/n't let me do this" because it's true. Bungo and Belladonna needed their perspectives first, (and never have I realized a character could write itself the way Bungo does - which is why I focused on him a tad more) and now Bilbo has called to me. 
> 
> Also, you may notice that the chapters are coming at a greater frequency then I intended. It's because as the story becomes more clear, I take it away and cannot stop. And the support I have been getting is HUGE encouragement. However, this means that minor mistakes are being published that I am not catching, because it's important that I post chapters for you to read (I hate the agony of getting into an unfinished story, so I empathize for those who are getting attached - and I do love that people are invested). Therefor, if there is any brave soul who would possibly be interested in becoming my Beta, or proofreader, I'd be eternally grateful.

Chapter 5

 

       While Bilbo didn’t know this dwarf, simply by the way he entered the room, it was plain that he was someone Important. His very presence drew the attention of the companions of the table.

       He, like Dwalin, was tall – though maybe not as tall as Dwalin. His black hair was long and thick. A firm scowl was placed upon his face, but Bilbo figured that probably _was_ his resting face.

       Overall, he was lacking in a good first impression, and when Dwalin broke off his conversation with Ori, who was just getting comfortable enough to relax, to greet the surly figure, Bilbo’s opinion lessened on principle.

       “Hello Thorin.” Dwalin said, greeting his friend. Thorin’s expression relaxed somewhat as he returned a hello to Dwalin. It also didn’t escape Bilbo’s attention that Dori had gone considerably rigid. Interesting.

       “Thorin,” Balin said, also rising. He did not move though. “I’d like to introduce you to Bungo and Belladonna Baggins.” Both stood to greet him. Thorin gave each a respectful nod. “And Dori’s brother, Ori,” Dwalin took over. So Bilbo forgave him for pausing the conversation. “This is the family that took care of him.” Maybe not. “And you remember Dori,” Balin cut in, seeing how the wording was in poor choice. “And their other two sons, Bilbo and Frodo.” Thorin nodded at each.

       “They’re joining us for dinner.” Balin concluded. Bilbo had to wonder why Thorin hadn’t given an, “At your service,” like the other two. He must not be as polite. Dwalin retook his original seat (So maybe he’d be forgiven after-all), and Balin sat back down. Thorin took a seat at the other end of the table, so he was facing Bungo and was next to Bilbo. A poor arrangement in Bilbo’s mind, but given the alternative of Dori being in his place, the hobbit instead chose to deal with it.

        Nevertheless, Bilbo wanted to attempt at conversation. He had hoped Balin would help, but he was busy talking alternatively with Frodo and Dori. “So, what brings you to Bree?” He asked. Thorin gave him half a glance. “Business.” Well. “Will you be staying for long?” “No, Balin, Dwalin and I will be leaving tomorrow for Rivendell.” Bilbo had to place a hand on Frodo’s arm to preemptively silence him, but it was no use.

       “You get to go to Rivendell?” The excitement was tangible. Internally, Bilbo winced. This dwarrow was so rude – he hardly wanted that rudeness exposed to someone so pure. However, Thorin mildly surprised him. Actually, he looked surprised at being addressed by one as young-looking as Frodo. “Well, only technically.” He said. Then, he actually took the initiative to speak again, “My home engages in trade with them, and once a year we meet to reaffirm our agreement. It keeps good faith.” It was more than Bilbo had gotten from him, so he decided to let Frodo say what he wished. However, it seemed that shyness had uncharacteristically crept on his younger brother.

       “Are you from Ered Luin, like Dori?” Bilbo asked instead. It seemed that Thorin had at least moved from irritable to mildly polite, and he said, “No. I lived there for a few years in my youth, but my home is in Erebor.”

       From down the table, tired of quietly watching Ori and Dwalin speak, Belladonna asked from down the table, “What business do you keep in Erebor?” Thorin regarded her for a moment, and seeing that neither of his companions were going to answer (they looked far too amused), he finally said, “I’m the Heir Under the Mountain.”

      Bilbo went rigid. Well, no wonder. Thorin was hardly going to enjoy conversing with him – the dwarf was royalty! He was only a lowly hobbit in the other’s mind. Nevermind his grandfather was Thain of the Shire – such a title would mean nothing to outsiders. He silently turned to his own soup.

       After a few moments, he noticed Thorin looking at him. Just looking. It was quite unnerving. “Is there something on my face?” He asked. Thorin seemed to catch himself. “Oh – no.” Was he spluttering? “You’re from the Shire, right?” It shocked Bilbo so much that he’d been asked a question that it took him a moment to answer. Frodo had to speak for him, “We all are. ‘cept Ori. We live in Bad End.” Thorin gave a nod. While Bilbo wasn’t sure if he particularly liked Thorin, he could appreciate that the heir ( _heir!_ ) took care not to talk down to Frodo. “I’ve heard that Hobbits live under the ground, like dwarrow do.” He said. He looked back at Bilbo. “Is that true?”

       By now Bilbo had righted himself. “Well, kind of yes and no.” He clarified, “Hobbits live in smials – which are homes made from risen hills and earth-mounds. So we take homes from nature, but not necessarily below the surface as deep as the Blue Mountains or Erebor.” At last they seemed to find a commonality, but Bilbo wished they could talk about something a tad more fruitful. “Do you happen to have any brothers or sisters?”

            Thorin went on to say that he had one sister and one brother, and two sister-sons. He seemed to grow a tad lighter (meaning his face had lost half the original scowl) when speaking of them. Interesting. The rest of the meal was spent politely asking about these relatives, and in turn explaining the specifics of what went into creating a smial and other hobbit-style homes.

              Once he found a natural groove of conversation, the evening past more pleasantly. And it wasn’t _bad_ conversation per se – it was far preferable to eating with the brooding dwarf he’d first met – it felt stilted. But in the corner of his eye, he could see how Ori and Dwalin were becoming more and more comfortable, in a way Bilbo had never seen his brother comfortable with an outsider before. And while it was certainly an odd choice for Ori to feel comfortable – Dwalin seemed incredibly scary at first glance – Ori’s happiness trumped whatever preconceived disposition Bilbo had.

             And then – where had the time gone? – the meal was over. “Well,” Thorin said, “It was nice to meet you, Bilbo Baggins.” Bilbo gave a polite nod. Bungo and Belladonna were speaking to Balin now, as everyone made to stand. They were thanking both him and Dwalin for escorting Dori this far. “Actually,” Balin said, “There is something I’d like to speak to you about.” The three of them wandered away while the rest of the party adjourned to the sitting room for tea.

             Frodo then took Thorin’s attention – shyness overcome – and Thorin allowed himself to be drawn into answering questions about what being a prince was like. He took it all in good stride. Ori had given Bilbo a secret look before sitting down (and between his conversation with Dori and the events at dinner, neither really would be getting any sleep tonight) and it left Bilbo to engage with Dori.

             Finally, Bungo, Belladonna, and Balin rejoined the party. The look of self-satisfaction on his mother’s face had Bilbo scared. And the look of pretend-aggravation on his father’s face was downright terrifying. As much as he protested it, all three of the brothers were well-aware that in his senile old age he’d picked up on his wife’s habit of _enjoying_ the unexpected.

             “I’d like to apologize for the aside,” Balin said politely, “But I had to ask Belladonna and Bungo for their permission before bringing it up. As you well know, tomorrow Dwalin, Thorin and I will be headed to re-affirm our good faith in Rivendell, and I would like to invite Dori, Ori and Bilbo to accompany us.” “Frodo, you’re too young to go.” Bungo interjected. Frodo looked crestfallen.

             It seemed that Thorin’s weakness was distraught children, because he surprised Bilbo even further by saying, “My apologies young Master Baggins,” he said, “but when you are age I can take you next time.” That seemed to appease him.

             Dori looked incredibly flustered, and Ori seemed hesitant. Bilbo, however, could not avoid the look from Belladonna, and knew instantly what this was about. “We’d be delighted!” He said, making sure neither brother could say a thing. “Thank you very much for the invitation.”

            “Think nothing of it.” Balin replied.

            Ori seemed nervous. “I can’t speak much for the elves,” Dwalin said, “But the ride there and back’ll be nice.” Ori relaxed and turned back to him. “Do you travel often?”

            “When I go a place with Thorin, but other than that I live in the mountain. Will you be moving there?”

            “I-I’m not sure,” Ori answered, “Dori and I are staying in Bag End until I find an apprenticeship and Dori gets a job, and we find a house. Right Dori?” Dori hadn’t wanted it put quite that bluntly, but he nodded.

            “What are your talents, lad?” Balin asked. Frodo and Bilbo groaned. He had to _ask._ Thorin was thrown, before Belladonna added, “He’s the best artist in the Shire. His penmanship is wonderful, and the only person who writes at the same level is my Bilbo.” Said son’s face went scarlet. Balin chuckled.

            “Well, if it’s really that good, then perhaps I can message my friends at the Great Library.”

            Ori gasped. “There’s a Great Library?”

            “Yeah!” Dwalin said, “It’s bigger than any-one in any other place – three times the size of this inn with books from top to bottom.” If there was one thing Ori loved, it was books. “Sounds lovely.” He said dreamily, smiling. Dwalin swallowed.

            “Well, if we get the chance in Rivendell, we can see where your skill level is.” Balin said to him. He seemed happy to be able to help, but Bilbo was suspicious. He adored Ori, and respected Dori in kind, but it was plain that this family was well above them in social station. What did Balin gain by helping Ori? Dori seemed to share his feelings. “Only if it’s no trouble.” The other dwarf said. “Not at all!” Balin assured, and that statement seemed rushed. Intriguing. Another thing to talk to Ori about.

            After the exchange, tea time passed rather smoothly. Until, of course, Thorin asked Bilbo was his talents were.

This time all three brothers groaned.

Bungo took the initiative, “Cartography mainly. Also a good writer (he and Ori were really the best two), and has a sharp mind for science.” Again, the middle child went red as one of Hamfast Gamgee’s prized tomatoes. While Thorin looked thrown, Dwalin looked amused – the bastard. Forget anything good Bilbo ever thought of him. After a half-an-hour, it was time for all to bid good-night, and depart to their respective rooms.

Of course, for Ori and Bilbo, their night was far from over.

\--

            “Alright.” Bilbo said, the minute the door to their room was closed, and before Ori could unleash everything he had been holding in. “Too much happened. One thing at a time. It’s all equally important and exciting, so we’re going in order.” Ori nodded his agreement vigorously.

            “Start with Dori.”

            Ori started with Dori. He explained that both hadn’t said anything at first, just held onto each other.

            “He was scared too! He was worried, and couldn’t stop internally fussing.” Well that explained where Ori got it, and when he said as much his older brother hit him. “Oh hush you! Well he told me all about Nori. Apparently he’s still not allowed to leave the mountain, which is why he didn’t come. Also, he’s been working in the mines, but if Dori gets to open his own restaurant, he’ll work for him. Also,” And his eyes went wide, “He’s with someone! A dwarf named Bofur, and they’ve been together when he started at the mines. But they didn’t start courting till right when Dori left. Not practical, but that’s Nori I guess.” Bilbo nodded, although neither knew Nori well enough for that to be fact.

            “He didn’t tell me much about who he worked for… Bilbo I think he’s ashamed. And I don’t think he likes the fact that these dwarrows knew him from when he was working.” Well, that explained why he didn’t look happy they’d accepted the invitation. Ori agreed. “And he didn’t tell me much more.”

            There would be time to brood upon this later, but Bilbo was a punctual hobbit (like his father) and decided to address there next piece of business.

            “Now Dwalin.”

            Ori blushed.

            Bilbo cackled.

            Ori hit him with the pillow again.

            “I- I don’t know.” Bilbo gave him the most dubious look he could muster. Ori laughed and hit him again. This time Bilbo hit back. “I don’t! I’ve never felt that comfortable around someone before! But do you think I was too forward?” Bilbo knew it wasn’t appropriate, but he couldn’t help laughing. Ori continued to hit him, but Bilbo didn’t even fight back. Only Ori would take shyly responding, and asking, questions without stammering to mean to forward!

            “My love, you were fine.” He finally assured. “Any outsider would find you shy and polite as ever.” While the dwarf was unhappy he’d been laughing, the statement appeased him. “Besides, he was very taken with you too!” Ori blushed harder, Bilbo laughed harder, and the conversation derailed for a few moments while Ori renewed interest in hitting him with the pillow, and Bilbo defending his honor.

            “Well, make good on this trip to Erebor and _talk to him more_ ,” Bilbo insisted when they stopped. “Mom and Dad expect grandchildren, and you’re the oldest so it falls on you.” Ori rolled his eyes.

            “What about you?” He accused. “What about me?” Ori snorted. “I saw you talk to Thorin. A prince! Bilbo that is _so_ like you!” This time is was Bilbo’s turn to hit first.

            “I was only talking to him so you could focus on Dwalin and not me.” Ori now looked dubious. “You didn’t see the looks mother gave me!” Ori blinked, blushed slightly, but then shook himself out of it. “Well, she did the same to Frodo – that’s why he didn’t talk to Thorin – so you could!” Bilbo sighed. He should have known.

            “Well, it doesn’t matter.” Ori didn’t budge. “What about Thorin? Bilbo are you gonna marry royalty?” Bilbo hit him again. “Hardly not. He barely talked to me. I bet he thought the hobbits were beneath his high stature.” Ori pursed his lips, but Bilbo noticed he didn’t outright disagree. “He did scowl a lot.” The dwarf analyzed. “Maybe he just needs to warm up to you. Good thing we’re going to Rivendell – you can warm up to him!” Bilbo snorted. “I’ll talk to him to focus you and Dwalin together, but I hardly expect it to go anywhere!”

            Their conversation trailed to speculation about what Rivendell could be like, though it was more Bilbo going from theory to theory, with Ori listening, nodding, and yawning in odd intervals. Visiting elves appealed more to the hobbit, while the dwarrow was more interested in the company – or a certain member – they’d be entertaining.

            “Well, we should sleep.” The elder finally cut in. Honestly – he wasn’t about to ponder over what kind of _lettuce_ the elves ate. Greens. Ew. “We’re going to have a long day, and you won’t look pretty for the prince if you keep yawning.” This left two a few minutes of vicious pillow righting. Then,

            “Well, you were right.” Bilbo agreed sagely. “Let me get us some water for tomorrow.” With a ‘good night’, Ori turned over to sleep while Bilbo silently wandered back to the kitchens for water. However, on his way, he heard voices coming from the sitting room, where they’d had tea. Still energized from gossiping and fighting, he crept to eavesdrop. Honestly, he was his mother’s son.

            The closer he got, he realized it was actually Dwalin and Thorin! As soon as he got close enough he could overhear the following:

            “Balin inviting them slows us down!” This was Thorin. “It won’t be that bad,” Dwalin was saying, “Bungo said the lads can ride, and Balin said Bilbo could possibly help with negotiation. He may even take the attention off us.” There was a moment of silence.

            “You’re only for this because it keeps the youngest Ri brother with us. No-“ Dwalin must have made an objection, “Don’t bother I know you. You were embarrassing back there.” Dwalin growled. The noise startled Bilbo, but he caught himself before he could make a squeak. “Well what’s the problem?” Dwalin snapped, sounding defensive. “And besides, you were chatting with the hobbit. Planning on strengthening ties with the Shire?” Thorin snorted. Bilbo was beginning to feel insulted. At least nothing was said against Ori. “I was only being polite.” Thorin replied, “Yes, there is a certain charm the hobbit has.” Oh – so he was _the hobbit_. “But he’s hardly someone I can consider seriously, and you know it.” Well. It wasn’t like he was overly fond of the heir anyway, but that still hurt. It seemed that Mr. Royalty really did consider his family too low for someone of his station.

            Bilbo returned to his and Ori’s room without water.

            And had a hard time falling asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to end the chapter after tea, but Ori and Bilbo needed to gossip. They can be very childish when they're in the mood.


	6. A Walk in the Garden, Then it's Time for Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey to Rivendell is uneventful (why wouldn't it be?) and some important conversations happen. A surprise character appears. And then epiphanies are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update! This story has direction! Rejoice! 
> 
> Could not resist making the journey short and uneventful. (which will be something I do again and again) I know, I know. It's pretty anti-Tolkien. But something tells me this entire story is anti-Tolkien, so there's that.

 Chapter 6

             It took every ounce of courtesy that Bilbo possessed to maintain a civil conversation with Thorin the next day. But he knew that the prince could see through the pretend exterior. Though to be frank, he didn’t care.

            After all, he was too poor for the dwarrow’s tastes. He powered through though, because Balin seemed to understand how well Dwalin and Ori were getting along, and spend the majority of the journey speaking to Dori, who was looking less and less uncomfortable. The brother’s Ri needed more happiness – this was something all the Baggins’ knew and could agree on – and whatever Bilbo could do to help, he would. And if that meant continuing to talk to a dwarf that he knew barely tolerated him, well, it was for the cause.

            And he hadn’t seen Ori so happy since… well… hm. Ever really. So this was Important. Also, Thorin didn’t seem to care enough to call him on his only cordial conversational pieces, so Bilbo didn’t feel the need to speak much further then what absolutely needed to be said.

            The journey to Rivendell was uneventful. They broke for a mid-day meal when Balin remarked on this. “Well I can’t imagine what could happen in these parts.” Bilbo said, glancing about. “It all seems too quaint.” Dwalin gave a bark of laughter. “Yeah – tell Thorin that.”

            The Prince gave his scowl. Or rather, just made his face at him.

            “How come?” Ori asked. Bilbo almost pitied the Captain of the Guard for the look he gave to Ori.

            “The last time he came this way,” Balin remarked, “He made the mistake of bringing his nephews Fili and Kili with him.” Dori seemed to freeze – but no-body but Bilbo saw. “The two lads were tasked to watch the ponies”

            “They had one job.” Dwalin muttered.

            “But then lost the ponies” Balin continued. “And were almost eaten by trolls.”

            “By trolls!” Both Bilbo and Ori exclaimed. Thorin nodded gravely. “It was a bloody mess.”

            “But then, by our good luck,” Balin continued, “Sunlight struck, and they froze to stone! Had we gone in that direction” he pointed in the distance “We’d pass them.”

            Ori was now asking Dwalin for more of his adventures, and the dwarf was gladly taking the time to impress the younger lad about all his different battles and travels. The youngest Ri brother made for a perfect listener, smiling when it was appropriate, gasping at all the right places, and never once looking away from the speaker.

            The sweetness gave Bilbo cavities, which was why he let himself be led away.

            While he was taking a moment on his own, he brought out his own pen and paper. He had always wanted to write a story, and always had to write when he had the urge. And right now, the urge was forcing him to write about the story with the trolls. It would make a good one for the littler cousins, and he could tell Frodo. And hopefully scare Lobelia in the process.

            “Pardon me.” Lost in his writing, the unexpected voice startled the hobbit and caused him to jump. “My apologies.” Bilbo looked up. It was Thorin. “Hello.” He said. “May I sit with you?” It was an odd request, but Bilbo nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about this morning.” Thorin continued, after sitting. “I was wondering, if perhaps I had said something of offense to you.” Bilbo was shocked. He had thought Thorin didn’t care one way or the other what Bilbo thought. How… surprising.

            The hobbit wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to admit to eavesdropping, but it was awfully earnest of Thorin to ask him outright. Instead, he decided to take the middle ground.

            “Last night,” he began, “When I learned you were a prince, I was surprised. Later, I realized that you must think my family awfully plain, compared to what you’re used to.” It was the truth.

            Thorin seemed surprised by the honestly. “Well.” He began, then stopped. Then started again. Bilbo realized then how uncomfortable he actually was. “Well, in all honesty, you are very different then what I am used to, but it is hardly a fault of your own. Aside from the yearly trip to Rivendell, and going to Dale once a month, and Mirkwood” this was said with a scowl, “Once every two, I hardly leave the mountain. And you are the first hobbit I’ve ever met.” That did explain the awkward beginning last night. But still…

            “That, to a hobbit,” Bilbo said, “Is a lot of traveling. Hobbits rarely leave the shire. We enjoy the comforts of our homes, our armchairs, fires, pipes, and planting. Actually, going to Bree is seen as quite the trek.” Thorin raised an eyebrow. “What, then, possessed you to go?” Bilbo gave a rueful smile. “Our family is half Took. And we adore Dori, and wanted to see him and Ori to see each other as soon as possible. And thank Balin and Dwalin for taking him to us.” “What does it mean to be half Took? Is that a kind of Hobbit?”

            “In a sense,” Bilbo clarified. Of course that expression would make no sense to a Dwarf outside the Shire. Not every dwarf was his Ori. “We belong to families, and our families have surnames. My father is Baggins, hence: Bilbo Baggins. But before my other married him she was Belladonna Took. Took’s are known for being unexpected, going on adventures, disturbing the peace – they get quite the kick for shaking things up! And in one way or another, it’s rubbed off on all of us. Even Ori.” Bilbo glanced over his shoulder, with a smile.

            “You care for him.” It wasn’t a question.

            “Ori is the best.” Bilbo said confidently. “And my family and I only want what’s best for him.” Thorin said nothing, no doubt going over what had just been told to him. Bilbo was quite pleased with himself. He went back to his account on the trolls.

\--

            Thankfully, no trolls stopped them on their way to Rivendell. They were then greeted by a Lord Elrond ( _an actual elf_! Bilbo kept whispering to himself, at the amusement of the others) and were shown to the nicest rooms Bilbo had ever seen (not counting his Smial. Absolutely nothing could ever compare to Bad End). The only downside was that he and Ori would not be sharing a room. This would make their late night conversations difficult to have.

            Balin made good on his promise to see where Ori’s skill level was. After they were settled in, he and Dwalin escorted the hopeful scribe to the library, and Bilbo chose to accompany them.

            It really was impressive. Dwalin hadn’t been exaggerating when he described its size or sheer number of books. It was beautiful. Ori was in love. Dwalin must have noticed, because he was worried.

            “And of course, it hardly compares to the Mountain!” He was quick to add in, whenever Ori made an observation about something he saw. Bilbo and Balin chuckled, and Balin gave him a wink when the hobbit caught his eye. So Balin was completely aware of what was going on. Very good. Bilbo and Dwalin left the other two alone, and Dwalin politely showed Bilbo to other parts of the city.

            They were speaking about the different tactics of trade at Erebor, and its relationship to the nearby cities (something Dwalin was very educated on, from all the times he traveled with his brother and the Prince. His ability to hold this conversation would serve him well for speaking with his future in-laws, and Bilbo approved again) when Thorin joined them. He too joined in the conversation (it did not escape Bilbo’s notice that the Prince turned from polite disinterest to passion whenever he spoke about the Mountain or his family – something Bilbo could respect), and it continued as they walked through the courtyard. They then ran into Lord Elrond again, and he was talking to a dwarf Bilbo had not yet met. But both Thorin and Dwalin stiffened considerably. Interesting.

            “Hello again.” Lord Elrond said. He hadn’t noticed. “I would like to introduce my colleague, Smaug.”

“Oh, no need for introductions.” Smaug said smoothly. He gave them a wide smile. I am well acquainted with Prince Thorin and Captain Dwalin.” Acquainted seemed to put it rather lightly, in Bilbo’s opinion. The dwarrow was seething in rage. Was he the only one who noticed? His eyes lingered on Bilbo. “Though, I have not met you before.” His voice was deep, almost like a purr. It was nearly irresistible. Bilbo tried not to blush.

“I’m Bilbo Baggins.” He said, giving a formal nod a curtsey of sorts. Curse his mother for never teaching him a formal greeting. Smaug took his hand, and then actually kissed it.

Bilbo knew the urge to not blush was failing.

            Suddenly, Dwalin cut in on behalf of the Prince. “Well, the three of us must be off.” He said, half dragging, half pulling Bilbo away. Thorin had already taken off.

            The hobbit was very confused. When they got to a respectable distance on their way back to the library, Bilbo had to ask. “Smaug seemed nice enough.” He remembered the kiss on the hand, ignoring how his hand tingled. “What is the issue you have with him?” Thorin scowled and said nothing. He only pouted and stalked away. Bilbo sighed, and looked at Dwalin. The taller dwarf looked uncomfortable.

            “Really, it’s Thorin’s beef. I shouldn’t be gossiping about it.” Not a gossiper then. Didn’t bode well.

            But Bilbo knew the ‘correct’ response. “Well, I can respect that.” He acquiesced. “I guess I’ll see you at dinner then?” He decided he’d tell Ori about the courtyard tonight – let Dwalin have his attention now. Dwalin gave him a nod, and went back into the library.

            As Bilbo wandered the city, he ran into Dori in one of the sitting rooms.

            “Hello Master Dori.” The other dwarf beamed at him. “Hello! Come join me.” He did.

            “Master Dori, can I ask you a question?” Bilbo asked. At the receiving nod, he continued.

            “We’ve all been wondering, how you feel towards the other dwarrows.”

            Dori sighed, and shifted. “I do owe you an answer.” He agreed. Bilbo let him mull over his words, and took a few sips of tea. Dori always had the best tea.

            “Dwalin is the Captain of the Guard, and Balin is advisor to the Prince under the mountain.” Bilbo nodded – he knew this. “Dwalin was the one to arrest Nori so many times.” Oh. Well then. “I know Nori is to blame here, but I have a hard time rationalizing the dwarrow from the captain who almost removed my brother’s arm.”

            It made sense to Bilbo.

            “I was desperate to do whatever necessary to keep that from happening.” There was a slight tinge of desperation to that statement, and Bilbo had the feeling he was better off not inquiring further. “When Thorin’s sister, Princess Dis, offered a considerable sum to lessen the sentence to an elongated time in jail, no bail, with a strict parole. It was better than I dared hope. In return, I was expected to serve in her household to pay her back, and to pay back the expenses our dear mother incurred, and well,” He glanced back and forth, and lowered his voice so Bilbo had to lean in, “Tell this to no one, but Ori was very sick in the first few years of his life. He went to the doctor a lot as well.” Bilbo was shocked. “So I worked for her, and took care of the two young princes.”

            There was a moment of silence, for Bilbo to process everything, and Dori continued, “It was hard. Hard to raise two boys when your boy was an age away. And the Fundin family frequently visited. I may no longer be a servant, but I see it in the back of their eyes whenever I look at them. It’s kind of Balin to help Ori, but… I’m scared for the reason,” He looked truly afraid, “I cannot afford any payment he will require, and it will kill me to have to separate myself from Ori to continue to pay back more debt.” Bilbo’s heart went to the other dwarf. Dori really didn’t deserve any of this.

            “I don’t think Balin will require anything from you.” He said instead. Dori did not like pity. “I think he simply likes Ori, and wants to help him where he can. Also,” It was his turn to glance around and lower his voice, “I think he approves of the flirting with Ori and Dwalin, and may want to keep him near the Mountain for his sake.” Dori sighed. “I fear that’s true. But our families, coming together after the bad blood with Nori and Dwalin? How in Middle-Earth could they set aside the issues with our reputation? Our family is not the most well-off, and it’s nearly scandalous how Dwalin is conducting himself.” He looked even more saddened. “I don’t want Ori to be hurt.” Bilbo was in agreement there.

            “We won’t let that happen.” There was a silence, for Bilbo to process everything.

            “Dori?” He asked. “Hm?”

            He hesitated, but it would bother him if he did not ask. “Did you happen to know of a Smaug while in service to Princess Dis?”

            Dori shook his head. “The Princess entertained many guests, but none by that name.” Interesting. So what was his relation to Thorin and Dwalin?

            “Why?” Bilbo told him about the encounter in the garden, and included the kiss on the hand. Maybe it was the resemblance to Ori, or the air of comfort that Dori gave off, but Bilbo felt an amount of ease confiding in him.

            In response, Dori chuckled. “Well, he certainly sounds lovely. You must be feeling pressure from your parents to marry.” Bilbo admitted guilty.

            “Do you have anyone?” He asked suddenly. Dori stammered and flushed. “Oh – goodness no!” Bilbo was sad.

            “Well, I’m sure mom and dad will have thoughts on that” Dori snorted “but is there anyone you do like?” He eyed the elder critically, noticing the way he hemmed and hawed over the question.

            An epiphany struck.

            “Balin!”

            Dori snarled at him, “Quiet!” But Bilbo didn’t even care. Of course. They were taking tea when his family first arrived. They were across from each other at dinner. Dori and Bilbo were both included in the invitation to Rivendell (fully knowing it was an unofficial way to chaperone Ori with Dwalin) but of course this gave the chance for Balin to talk to Dori – and the two talked _the entire way_.

            Actually, this was all evidence that Balin liked Dori. Bilbo had only guessed to the opposite.

            “You know,” he continued, “He likes you too. You should say something.”

            “I think it’s high time we got ready for dinner, before I tell your father how bad your gossiping had been!” Dori retorted. Bilbo laughed, and allowed the conversation to derail as the two walked back to their rooms.

            Had they turned, just once, they would have noticed the dwarf who had happened to overhear much of the conversation.

            Balin was quite speechless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Questions? Advice? Concern for the trees that watch your every move? Leave a review - we can chat :)


	7. To Have A Dinner, Plant An Acorn, With A Pot of Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another dinner is held, but it is considerably more awkward. Bilbo has one discussion, then another. A relationship is born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you'll notice I've put a definable end chapter count - that's because I organized what I'll be putting where. It's exciting to have a plan, and hopefully I'll stick to it. 
> 
> Again, thank you to all who have left KUDOS or a review - It bring a fresh wave of excitement every-time. 
> 
> Also, a few Lord of the Rings world Easter-eggs placed for my own amusement. And I made up a plausible flavor tea, because it seemed romantic. 
> 
> And if any of you are looking to round out your literary prowess to be a proof-reader, I would welcome any and all who are interested for their assistance. I know there are mistakes, but I'm too excited to publish these chapters to check more thoroughly. My plan is to publish the whole story, then go back and edit.

Ch. 7

            Unfortunately, Thorin’s advisor did not have much time to ponder over all that he had heard, for the dinner was beginning with the hour. Instead, he resolved to make sure he spoke with Dori before they all retired for the night.

            Dinner was a tense affair. As Bilbo soon realized, Ori was wrong when he speculated that simply spending more time with Thorin would make him warm up. If anything, he was even sourer now then he was before! Not that Ori noticed. His older brother and Dwalin had sat right _next_ to each other, and hardly broke conversation unless one was asked a direct question by name. The two were seated at the far end of the table. Elrond sat at the head of the table. To his right, was Thorin. To his left, across from Thorin, was Smaug. Bilbo had stayed with Dori to get ready, and was hastily dragged into the dining room by the elder dwarf, and was ushered to a seat in front of Ori, and next to Dori. On his way in, he’d caught Thorin’s eye, but the Prince seemed to remember his thoughts on Smaug, for he seemed to be mad when he looked back at him.

            Well then.

            Balin entered the room last, looking rather tense. Bilbo wasn’t sure why, until he realized that he either had to choose to sit in between Thorin and Dori, or Smaug.

            And he didn’t chose Smaug.

            Dori re-doubled his efforts in focusing on Bilbo, which left Balin having to play the role of referee between the two adverse dwarrows.

            But Bilbo was curious, because it only seemed like Thorin was the angry one. Smaug was perfectly charming, and amiable. He asked Elrond about how things were going, did not rise to any of Thorin’s barbs, and made polite conversation with Balin. Balin wasn’t quite as rude a Thorin, but Bilbo felt that he knew the advisor well enough to tell the difference between genuine likeness and courtly disinterest that he went between. Balin was clearly the latter.

            “I am interested to how a hobbit wound up in your party.” Smaug reflected, looking directly at Bilbo. There was a certain intensity in his gaze, almost like his irises were fire, and that fire was seeping throughout Bilbo’s self. It certainly made him shift a tad.

            “Bilbo has joined us to see Rivendell.” Thorin said shortly, taking Smaug’s gaze away. It irritated Bilbo that he didn’t have the chance to answer. Who was Thorin to speak for him?

            “I’m here with my adopted brother, Ori.” Bilbo cut in. At the mention of his name, the youngest Ri brother looked up, momentarily ending their conversation. There was now silence at the table.

            “Adopted brother?” Now Smaug seemed even more interested. His gaze flitted between the two. It lingered on Bilbo though. “Ori…. Aren’t you his brother though?” He gestured to Dori.

            “He is.” Dori answered, “When he was young, I took him to Bilbo’s parents. Our parents had died, and I couldn’t take care of him.”

            “So we temporarily adopted him – but we are brothers at heart.” Bilbo continued. Ori nodded vigorously.

            “That’s very kind of you and your family.” Smaug said sincerely, looking at Bilbo with a kindness he could not name. “It truly must be a loving family to do such a thing.” The kind words about his family caused his heart to do a flip. Bilbo waved it off, but Smaug couldn’t have it.

            “Oh no, you are truly noble Mr. Baggins. Though,” and now his gaze went to Dori, “It’s a shame that you were separated from your brother for so long. Whoever that ought to be ashamed.”

            Dori swallowed.

            Dwalin went pale.

            After a few moments, Ori (who was none-the-wiser) drew Dwalin back into conversation, but the other dwarf didn’t seem as keen. He must not have told Ori then, Bilbo mused quietly. Elrond seemed to realize there was a certain amount of bad blood between Thorin and Smaug, because he dedicated the rest of the meal to speaking about business with Thorin, who was glad for the distraction.

\--

           The gardens of Rivendell were truly the loveliest part about the city, in Bilbo’s opinion. While the hobbit wasn’t as good as Ori in drawing (his parents didn’t exaggerate about his skill there), he could be trusted to make a nice sketch or two. Currently, he was doing his best to capture the walkways in the middle of the city, as a present to appease Frodo for his not being there.

           “Mr. Baggins.” Bilbo looked up to see Thorin approach him. At the silent request, he nodded, and the Dwarf sat next to him.

           “What are you doing?” He asked.

           “I’m making a sketch, for Frodo.” Thorin peered before Bilbo could move to hide it. His sketches weren’t exactly something he liked showcasing. Yet if he thought it unpresentable, it didn’t show on his face.

           “It’s rather remarkable. It… makes me like the city of Elves.”

           The high praise left Bilbo speechless. Truly surprising.

           There were so many things Bilbo wanted to ask. Why did he dislike Smaug? Why was the Prince so unimpressed by his family?

          But the only thing that came out: “Did you re-affirm your agreement with Elrond?” Stupid!

           Thorin nodded absentmindedly. “We just finished signing everything, so we’ll be able to leave tomorrow.”

          “Well that’s a shame.” Bilbo sighed. Thorin raised an eyebrow. “It was nice spending time with you all.” Bilbo explained. “I know the location isn’t your preference, but Ori and I are used to a certain routine. Going out of it has been fun.”

           “Ah.” There was more silence. Bilbo went back to his sketching.

            Thorin then noticed something else with the pencils Bilbo had. “Is… that an acorn?” He asked. Bilbo wasn’t expecting a question, so it took him a moment longer to answer. “Oh!” He picked it up. “Why, yes. It’s for my garden back at home.”

           “You have a garden?”

           Bilbo nodded. “Whenever I go somewhere – it really doesn’t matter where – I always find an acorn. Then, I bring it back to my garden, and I plant it, so it can grow into a tree. That way, a piece of earth there can be with me forever.” He fingered the acorn, and handed it to Thorin. “That one was from Bree – I’ll need to get one from here if we’re leaving so soon. I’ll have to ask Lord Elrond if there’s a rule against it.”

           Thorin said nothing for a while, but contemplated the acorn. Then, he handed it back to Bilbo, and stood up. Thinking their conversation over, Bilbo went back to his work. After a few minutes, however, he heard footsteps again.

         “For you.” He looked up.

           It was an acorn.

          How… surprising,

           “Oh – oh my. Thank you!” He said, before he could forget his manners. “This-this is incredibly kind of you.” Thorin’s face turned an odd color, and he sat down again. He seemed reluctant to talk, so Bilbo continued painting.

         Silence had always irked Bilbo after a while, but it was nice relaxing without being expected to say or do anything for anyone. Thorin must get that a lot.

         “My cousin seems… close with your adopted brother.” Thorin said at last. Ah. So he noticed it too. “Yes, it’s nice they’re getting along.” Bilbo said.

         “What’s Ori’s next move?”

         “Well, I expect it depends what he hears from Balin.” Bilbo predicted. “Hopefully he and Dwalin aren’t apart long, this is good for him. And hopefully he and Dori won’t be separated that much longer.” Thorin shifted, ever so slightly.

        Of course. The way Dwalin paled at dinner. “Not that it’s your fault of course.” Bilbo added.

       “No, it’s not. Dwalin was only doing his job.” Bilbo didn’t like the defensive tone. “I understand that, but Smaug was right. It was torture for Dori and Ori to grow up without each other.”

       “Smaug.” That was snorted with derision. “That sod knows nothing of how to care for others.”

       “He seems perfectly kind and respectful.” Bilbo didn’t like the assult on the other Dwarf’s character. “He was very friendly.” Unlike a certain dwarf, Bilbo couldn’t help but think. Thorin snorted again.

       “Oh, yes. Smaug is perfectly ‘kind and respectful’,” he retorted, and Bilbo was furious with the mimicking, “Until you get to know him.”

      “Why?” Bilbo demanded, “What happens when you get to know him?”

      “It doesn’t matter.” Thorin snapped, standing, “Because tomorrow morning we are leaving, returning to the Shire, and we’ll be far from him.” With that, the prince stalked off.

      Bilbo gave a huff, and tried to return to his sketch, but he was too angry to concentrate. Damn it all! What was Thorin’s problem anyway?

      “He’s always been like that.” The new voice made him jump, but when the hobbit turned his head, he flushed.

      “Smaug.” The dwarf gave him a smile. Bilbo felt sheepish. “How much did you overhear?” Smaug took a seat next to him, picking up the first acorn Bilbo had mentioned. “Everything, I’m afraid.”

      The hobbit sighed. “I’m sorry about all that.”

      Smaug gave a laugh, “You have nothing to be sorry for Master Hobbit. If anything, I should be thanking you. You, the small Halfling, defending my honor.” While Bilbo hated the term “Halfling” he did like the tone.

      “It was nothing. It’s just… what is the story between you and Thorin?” The other dwarf sighed.

      “Well, it’s a little long.” Bilbo kept staring. Smaug gave him a smile, and the familiar warmth returned.

      “Oh, alright! Well, my father, Ancalagon, served his grandfather, King Thror his whole life. He then went on to serve his son, Thorin’s father, king Thrain. My mother was a kitchen made in the palace, and I was the same age as Thorin, so he and I were taught together when we were young.”

      Bilbo was shocked. “So you were raised together, like brothers?” It made him think of himself and Ori. Smaug pondered that. “Well, I guess you could say that. My father died in a battle for King Thrain early on in his rule. So he always treated me like something of a second son. But then, well,” he shrugged. “It seemed after a while, Thorin got jealous. After my mother died, I was sent away.”

      There was silence after that, but Bilbo’s mind was racing. Poor Smaug! That he should be raised with someone so closely, only for that person to turn him away so callously! He could never do such a thing to Ori if something had happened to Dori. It made his opinion of Thorin lessen to almost zero. He told Smaug as much.

      “That’s terrible! And after you two being raised together…” Smaug waved him off, “Now, Thorin had to focus on getting ready for the crown. That didn’t give him much time with a common-dwarrow like myself. We mustn’t think badly of him.” How noble of a dwarf to say such a thing!

      “But what do you do?”

      “Well, I still have friend’s who’ll put me up, and I find off jobs here and there. Overall, I just wander from town to town. I’ve been almost all over Middle Earth.” That impressed Bilbo.

      “This is the farthest I’ve ever gone.” Bilbo said to him, with a self-depreciating laugh. “How dull I must seem to you.”

      “Nonsense!” Smaug was aghast. “That couldn’t be further from the truth! Honestly, hearing about you and Ori, well, that made me yearn. Your family must be truly amazing.” Bilbo was flattered.

      “If you’re ever in the shire, you should absolutely stop by for a visit. My parents and Frodo would love you.”

      Smaug looked at him directly for a moment, and the intensity made Bilbo flush a little. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He purred. Then, he stood, tossing the acorn back to him. “I must be off though, it is getting late. You should finish that while there’s still light out.” He nodded at the sketch. Bilbo waved him off, feeling in a much better mood as he completed Frodo’s drawing.

\--

      The last thing that Dori had wanted to do was accept Balin’s letter. But, he did. After all, in a few short days, who knew when he’d see the handsome dwarrow? That was the thought that kept running through his mind as he knocked on the door to Balin’s room. He did not have to wait long.

      “Ah, Dori!” Balin gave him a delighted smile. Dori tried to ignore the flips his stomach was doing at the sight. “Do come in.” As Dori stepped, Balin closed the door behind him.

      “I made a pomegranate rose tea, I remember you enjoy that one.” Dori was left speechless. After all his years serving, how could he possible know that? Balin escorted him to the sitting table, and poured a cup for him. Without anything better to say, Dori weakly asked him.

       “One day, you were entertaining me before Dis could meet me, and poured this for us. You said it was your favorite.” The elder dwarrow admitted it with a blush. And Dori knew why. “Why, that was years ago!” He said, “How in Middle Earth did you remember that?”

      “Because, that was when I fell for you.”

       There was nothing Dori could say. He felt light-headed.

       “I’m sorry for being so forward.” Balin held his hand over the table. “I have promised to take it slow – you deserved that. You… deserve so much more then what happened.” Nothing to say. “But I realize, you’ll be so far away with Ori, and I understand why, he really is as lovely as you are-“ He gave a broken laugh “Oh, look at me. I can’t help but ramble when I talk to you.

       “It’s why I want Ori in the Great Library.” The advisor looked ashamed. “I wanted you to stay close to me. But if you’d allow me, I can help you get a new life. It’s not charity, and even if you don’t feel the same, you owe me nothing. Yet after being around you for so long, I know that there is no-one finer, kinder, and with a bigger heart. You’re kept me captivated, and I’ve seen what you’ve gone through, and you deserve better. And if you’d have me, I’d spend every day making you as happy as you would make me.”

        By now, Balin was looking at him earnestly, and he had every right to. After such a beautiful confession, Dori needed to speak. But no words were coming to him. How in Mahal’s name could he possibly express his feelings in the way Balin had? He couldn’t.

       Instead, he learned over the table, and kissed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! At least Dori's love story is going well. Though it's about time something went well for him. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Afraid for the swirling vortex about to absorb your home? Drop a review! I reply to them - we can chat about these and other things.


	8. No Life, Without Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our company returns to Bad End, and exciting developments are at foot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m probably being urged now because I so desperately want to explore the sequels with Ori and Frodo. A shame, because I've only hit the “slightly over halfway point.” And have no desire to attempt two stories at once. This update is a little later then what I've been doing. Not because I've lost my urge with this story, but because I got the need to start writing the last few chapters. So while there’s a ways to go, the end is almost done. My methods are weird. 
> 
> Also, the scene later on with Ori, Frodo, and Lobelia is heavily inspired from Bride and Prejudice, “No Life Without Wife” (It’s a Bollywood musical style adaptation of Pride and Prejudice – very colorful and entertaining). Additionally, Lobelia is not going to be a villain in this story -she annoys Bilbo, and in he annoys her in turn. There's is a mutual relationship. (I think we all know who the real villain is) She is just a young, hopeful girl. Think Sansa in the first season of Game of Thrones.

Chapter 8

            Ori knew something had shifted with his brother the next morning, as the party trekked to Bag End. Not Bilbo – the two had spent all night talking about the dinner, what he and Dwalin had talked about after, and Bilbo’s encounters in the garden. There was much to dissect, and between the two they were lucky to get more than three hours’ sleep. Bilbo kept yawning in his saddle. Ori had practice making do with little amounts of sleep – sometimes the urge to draw kept him awake all night – and did not fair so bad.

            But, Dori.

            There was a definite change with his older brother. He no longer seemed to be tense around the other dwarrows. Also, he went out of his way to engage with Balin, and if he thought anyone didn’t notice the way they ‘discreetly’ held hands for a time at First Breakfast, then his favorite dwarf was a fool.

            The middle Ri brother needed to know what was happening with him, but there was no way to discreetly pull him aside on the way there. It seemed that Dori would have to join his late talks with Bilbo, so this could be figured out. That made Ori brighten considerably. He loved the chance to bring his dwarf side and his hobbit side together – Ori had been wondering how to do so, and this seemed to be a step in that direction.

            Between his potential plans with Dori that evening, and working out communication details with Dwalin, Ori was sufficiently entertained the rest of the way home. He couldn’t help but notice that Thorin still seemed to be brooding. It was a shame Bilbo was not more awake to distract him, because deep down Ori thought that Bilbo made Thorin at least a tad happier. Though he and Bilbo agreed last night that Smaug was a better potential partner for his younger brother. While he never got the chance to speak with Smaug, the dwarrow seemed very charming and charismatic, and no-one had ever made Bilbo blush like the way he did when hobbit spoke of him!

            As they wandered through the Shire, the hobbits that were tending to their gardens looked up to give them accusing, looks, muttering under their breath. Bungo had once come from a respectable family in a long-line of well-mannered hobbits, but with all the _changes_ (namely that came from the adoptions) he had lost all respectability. It secretly thrilled the old man (Mama Belladonna was always quick to assure them). Dori was rather amused by the looks, and delighted in waving back. Balin didn’t understand, but chuckled at other dwarrow’s amusement. Dwalin didn’t notice, but the stares threw Thorin off.

            Upon arriving at Bag End, Bilbo got the sense that something was wrong. He could sense a flurry of movement behind the doors, which was off. They all dismounted from their ponies, and were tying them to the side when Frodo came out to greet them.

            That was also odd. In the middle of the day, he was usually out with Samwise, Merry and Pippin.

“Hello!” The littlest Baggins called to them. Bilbo reached over to give his younger brother a hug.

            The others offered a ‘Good Afternoon’ in turn while Ori got the second hug.

            “It’s a beautiful day!” Frodo said, still blocking the way through the front door. “We should all go for a walk into town, and you should all tell me about Rivendell.” The older brothers exchanged a look. It was the classic diversionary tactic they all gave whenever there was a situation they wanted to avoid. From the amusement of their companions, the other dwarrows were familiar with the technique as well. Usually, Bilbo and Ori were only too ready to aid with mischief, but they just been out traveling. Bilbo needed tea, or heads were going to roll.

            “What did you do.” Bilbo deadpanned, while Ori raised a dubious eyebrow. Before Frodo could protest, the company heard Belladonna call,

            “Frodo! You are not getting out of chores today! Have Ori and Bilbo help prepare for company!”

            “Company?” Ori asked. Frodo gave him a false smile. “Our cousin’s here.”

            Bilbo would deny making an undignified moan, but he did. It wasn’t that he disliked Lobelia – though there was a little dislike. The two were the same age, and were always put together for all the same lessons, games, sports – everything. It developed between them a certain rivalry, and they competed over _everything_ together. Who could plant a better garden, who danced more at parties, who would end up marrying the more successful hobbit – any little thing became a competition between them. Also, put them in the same room and insults flew faster the fauntlings running toward a fresh-baked pie. Lobelia herself was a fine person – a little headstrong – but she took a certain amount of energy to deal with that Bilbo didn’t quite have at the moment.

As they all moved into the Smial, Bungo came to the entrance to properly greet them. The Baggins patriarch quickly showed his boys into the kitchen – the poor lads, he mused silently – while he gave the confused guests an explanation to the rampant commotion.

            “We’re usually not this hectic.” He said, “But a niece of mine was called upon to stay with us for the next week – arrangements made last minute, as seems to be our pattern” Dori gave a weak laugh “Her parents are rather ill at the moment, and they didn’t want her catching it. And our banker Azog will be here.” The name meant nothing to Balin, Dwalin, or Thorin, but Dori looked concerned.

            “Azog?”

            “We hardly owe him anything,” Bungo assured him, knowing where it was headed. He explained to the others, “For a time, my father and I worked for Azog’s family. They own a business called, ‘The De-Forresters.’ They build things, built most of the Shire, in fact. I learned how to do everything from him. It’s how I built this.” He affectionately patted one of the walls. Thorin seemed much taken by the layout of the home, and, while he was listening, his attention and focus was on the walls and the workmanship.

            “From time to time Azog likes to visit the one Smial he didn’t build and meet his old worker.” Bungo continued, “But he needed to meet a little sooner than Belladonna and I planned.”

            Usually hobbits didn’t plan a travel engagement so close to a social call. It was throwing his poor family out of sorts. They may be part Tooks, but they weren’t insane! Bungo then asked about their traveling to and from Rivendell. Balin politely engaged with him.

            Dwalin had joined Thorin in walking around the living room. It was quite quaint, and looked homey. A section of portraits caught his eye, before he realized that it was a young version of Ori that he was looking at. What a cute lad! He nudged Thorin (next to little Ori was an even littler Bilbo) but his friend seemed nonplussed.

            “What’s with you?” The taller Dwarrow inquired. “We left Rivendell, got that over with. And Smaug’s far from here.” Thorin sighed. His reply was voiced low, “I don’t want to say, given where we are, but I feel we need to talk after leaving.” Confused by the cryptic wording, but trusting his friend, Dwalin agreed.

\--

            As far as knowing about hobbits, Balin only knew the Baggins family. He’d considered them to be a general example of what hobbits were like, but it seemed he’d have to re-think that after meeting Azog.  As for this Azog fellow – he wasn’t too sure about him.

            The man seemed rather tall for a hobbit, and not quite as stout as their personal chef Bombur, but he was well on his way. Azog seemed to possess an unfortunate disposition for eating loudly, with his mouth open. And for talking during the meal. These habits seemed rather usual for the hobbit, based solely in the way that Ori, Bilbo, Lobelia, and Frodo seemed to be making a discreet game of imitating his habits when the hobbit wasn’t looking in their general direction. It was funny, but Balin couldn’t help but find it childish.  

            There hadn’t been much of an introduction with their cousin, but Lobelia seemed rather harmless, simply lively. By the way she and Bilbo went back and forth, it was clear that the two had a complicated relationship, but it was probably loving in its own way. They acted like a bickering brother and sister, which made more sense when it was revealed that they were the same age. It was rather entertaining to watch, and Balin could see why Dori had been so taken with Belladonna all those years ago (his love told him that for all Bilbo presented himself like his father, he was really his mother at heart).

            Conversation during dinner was flowing steadily, but was rather general. It was rather easy to focus on eating Belladonna’s good cooking. When he thanked her, Belladonna beamed at him. “Why, thank you! I’m lucky to have the best chefs. Bilbo’s a natural – could do it professionally. Frodo’s still learning, so there’s time yet. And Ori, well.” Ori gave a good-natured shrug, and smiled sheepishly at her. Belladonna patted his head, “You’ll cook well enough for your husband when you move out.” Bilbo and Lobelia laughed while Ori blushed. Thorin caught the subtle look Belladonna threw Balin’s way.

            Bungo turned to Azog. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he inquired politely, “Is there any business you’re looking to achieve while staying in Bad End?”

            “Well, honestly, it’s a good question.” Azog was looking at Bungo from across the table. “I’ve been getting on in life. I have a home, a good business, and a stable life.” Mr. Baggins nodded in agreement while remaining silent, because he could hear the unsaid but. “But” and there it was, “I’ve been feeling pretty lonely.” Belladonna looked up, slowly. They all knew where this was going. “I think it’s high time I found a partner.”

            No noise sounded from the table. Then, Bungo cleared his throat. “Well, that’s good to hear. Any plans on where to start looking?” Azog was still looking at him carefully. “I have. Bungo, you are my dearest friend,” He paused while Belladonna began choking on her fish. Ori thumped her back, and he continued, “And I could think of no better family to start with.”

            Balin began to feel very much like an intruder to the table, and saw his dwarven companions felt similar. Even Ori.

            Lobelia didn’t seem too phased. “Well, it’s not like you can marry Ori. He’s too attached to his books.” She hadn’t looked up from her plate in between mouthfuls. “But there’s always Bilbo. He’s unspoken for.”

            Ori grabbed his hand before Bilbo could throw peas at her. Thankfully, no-one seemed to notice. Azog considered her words, and then turned his pointed gaze to Bilbo.

            The poor younger hobbit blushed, and returned to his food with renewed vigor. Balin silently offered his condolences. Dwalin and Thorin shifted uncomfortably.

            --

            After dinner came the after-dinner tea. At first, there was only awkward, polite conversation.

            The original plan had been for Dwalin and Thorin to leave after dinner, but a storm hit the Shire, meaning any travel would be quite unnecessarily difficult. A guest room had been made for them. Usually, Bag End had a seemingly endless supply of rooms, but Bungo and Belladonna found that with such an unusually large company in their home, they were strapped for space. Dori was staying in Ori’s room, and Frodo moved to Bilbo’s so Lobelia could stay in his. Azog had his own space. Balin had his own room as well.

Everyone was confused that Balin had not been included in Thorin and Dwalin’s plans. The advisor instead stated that events had come up that required him to stay for a while longer, and utilize the post office in Bree. Belladonna and Bungo offered him lodging in their home for as long as he needed for, “We’re no strangers to hosting dwarrows!” Balin chuckled good-naturedly and accepted the invitation with thanks.

And thus, everyone moved into the sitting room, but Azog’s conversation about marriage, with his now pointed looks in Bilbo’s direction only made everyone uncomfortable. As he was a guest, Bungo was bound by his rule of being a host, and could not tell him off. It made him curse his Baggins’ practicality. Not even Belladonna could say anything. While she never cared for what people thought of her, she couldn’t tell him off without risking hurting Bilbo’s reputation in the Shire. Bilbo himself tried to take it in stride, and made a point in _not_ looking over. They’d have to find a way of dealing with it soon, and cleverly so their reputation would _not_ be ruined.

Frodo helped Belladonna pass around cups to everyone, while she excitedly told everyone who asked (or did not ask) that she was getting to serve her pomegranate tea for the first time. Balin and Dori both seemed to go red at this, but she conveniently did not say anything. She had a little tact left in her old age.

When it seemed the tension was too tangible, Balin finally tapped Dori and whispered something to him. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded.

“Everyone,” Balin said, “I have something of an announcement to make.” It didn’t take long for him to garner everyone’s attention. When he had it, he continued. “It’s good news. Well… this is my way of formally announcing that Dori and I are courting.”

Dwalin dropped his glass.

Bilbo instantly went to pick it up – the dwarrow was in shock – while Thorin knelt down as well, and their hands brushed to get one piece. The contact made Bilbo’s hand – and stomach – warm but he ignored it.

Belladonna shrieked and ran to embrace Dori. After the two let go, Ori replaced her. Much like when they were reunited, neither was willing to let go of the other for a few minutes, where they whispered back and forth. Finally, Ori let go. He was smiling and saying that he completely approved one-hundred percent. Then, he gave Balin a hug, while the elder dwarf smiled and returned it.

“Did you know?” The Prince whispered. Bilbo looked up. It was the first time Thorin had addressed him directly all day. The hobbit shrugged. “I suspected.” Thorin didn’t reply.

After a moment, where Dwalin did finally offer his brother a hug, Azog cleared his throat. Because of the newfound commotion, he did not gain everyone’s attention the same way as Balin had. He cleared his throat again, and it held the same reaction.

Finally, Bungo called for everyone to quiet, which they did.

“Thank you.” Azog said. “I would like to offer my formal congratulations. A great poet once said, ‘No Life, Without Wife.’ While the phrasing may not apply, I believe the sentiment does. I hope we can all take the happiness, and place it in our own lives.” Bilbo didn’t need to look up to know he was being looked at.

He did however see Lobelia’s eyes widen, in the way that one’s eyes will widen when they have heard a great social faux paus and needed to laugh about it. Her eyes met his, and the look stated that they needed to talk later. Ori gave him the same look.

For once, he was not inclined.

            --

            Bilbo _knew_ he owed Ori expected another talk tonight – but he really was in no mood. So it was grudgingly that he answered the knocking on his door, with the intent to tell Ori, “Sorry, not tonight” and send him on his way.

            Only Ori wasn’t alone. “No. No no no no” He began, but Ori pushed passed him, followed by Frodo and Lobelia. None of them listened to his denials, or bothered to look the least bit sorry for invading his desperately needed privacy. His now least favorite people were positively gleeful at his expense, as they took their places around the room, armed with a pillow.

            “What’s the phrase again?” Lobelia asked Frodo. The youngest member gave her a considering grin. “Why, Lobelia, I believe it was, ‘No Life, Without Wife!’” The two erupted into laughter. Bilbo hit them both with his pillow. He’d never admit it under threat of torture, but he loved that Lobelia always gave as good as she got, and was never afraid to hit him back. She proved that by grabbing another pillow and hitting him with it. “Don’t you _want_ to marry the richest hobbit in the Shire?” She asked, batting her eyelashes at him.

            “No, no” This was Ori, “He’s going to marry a Prince!” That earned him a thorough beating, which he laughed through. “No!” Lobelia was scandalized, “You mean that pouting dwarrow?” Bilbo gave up. If he followed the Rule Of The Late Night Talks (which had been debated by all of them and carefully scribed by Ori years ago) and hit them every time they said something ridiculous, they’d be there till the end of the Third Age. At the moment, he needed to forego The Rule.

            “He’s not that grouchy” Frodo defended. “He can be really nice.” Lobelia snorted her disbelief. Then looked to Bilbo for an answer – Frodo always said nice things about people. That’s why he usually didn’t get included in these. But she knew that Bilbo always got to the bottom of a person’s true intent, and was always reliable to give a proper judge of character.

            “We’re not going to talk about that.” Bilbo decided. When it came to these chats (while Ori was the oldest) Bilbo was the one that dictated what Was and Was Not Said.

            “No, we should talk about ‘No Life Without Wife’” Lobelia agreed, laughing again. Bilbo tried to glare – damn the hobbit-lass for taking his authority! But he was too busy laughing with the other three. It had been a funny expression. And it had sounded so odd – Azog, trying to be poetic.  

            After the giggles left them, they took a moment to calm themselves. “Aside from the obvious..” Ori began, “Would Azog be a bad choice? Here me out!” He said, before Lobelia and Bilbo could retort. “Yeah, his table manners are… well….” Frodo did a comic imitation for his benefit. Ori gestured to him “That. But I mean… he practically built the entire Shire. He’s incredibly important, and wealthy. You’d… be well off.” Bilbo realized that his brother was worried for them, for when he left them.

            To his surprise, Lobelia spoke up. “It’s not about money.” She answered, “It’s about how he makes you feel. You can’t have a good marriage if you don’t love the person.” Frodo nodded in agreement.

            Bilbo cut in. “I… she has a point. I can’t just marry someone just because of their title, or their reputation. I have to be able to talk to them. I have to be able to sit with them and relax. I…. he can’t be afraid to laugh, or dance, or cry with me.” His gaze met Ori’s. “Is that too difficult?” Frodo shook his head so fast his curls looked as if they’d fall off.

            Lobelia sighed dreamily. “You just want romance.” Bilbo nodded in agreement.

“Well when you put it that way,” Ori mused, “Of course you can’t marry him.” It was good they had resolved the issue.

It was quiet again.

            “Ok, what was this about a prince?” Lobelia brought up. Bilbo thwacked her with his pillow.

            --

            The next morning, Balin and Dori departed first. Ori was sad to see them go, but both had reassured him they would be back in a matter of days – Balin needed to use the post to properly inquire on behalf of employment for Dori and Ori, and believed he would be just as useful sending in postage as he would being there. He then admitted to wanting to stay in the Shire a little while longer than his brother and the Prince, claiming it would be nice to begin his relationship with Dori in the countryside, where they could be away from the world. Bungo and Belladonna were glad for anything that made Dori smile as brightly as he had been the last few days. Bungo and Belladonna told Balin to keep the room he was already using.

Balin was also well aware that his love’s friends needed some time to get to know him, in order to judge whether or not he would be worthy enough. It was lovely so see someone else with Dori’s best interests at heart.

The good-bye’s that morning then were rather quick, as they would hardly be gone for that long. Then, the two dwarrows set off.

Bilbo and Ori were left in the front porch. It was a lovely morning, and they decided to stay out for when Dwalin and Thorin took their leave. The hobbit was surprised Ori wasn’t inside with the Captain of the Guard.

“He needed time to get ready with Thorin.” Ori answered when Bilbo asked him. “They have quite a long trek before getting back to Erebor.”

Their conversation drifted to idler topics, neither wishing to dwell on Azog, or Thorin, or Dwalin. It lulled Bilbo into such a state of complacency that it didn’t register in his mind there was someone approaching Bag End.

Ori noticed and realized it instantly. “Is… that Smaug?” Bilbo wasn’t really paying attention, until he actually looked at where Ori was pointing.

It was!

Bilbo shot to his feet. “Hello!” He called over, as Smaug approached the gate. The middle brother rushed forward to let him in, giving him a hug. Smaug returned it, and then gave Ori a hug as well.

“I didn’t expect you to drop by!” Bilbo exclaimed. The dwarf gave him a wink. “A certain hobbit said if I was in the neighborhood to stop by – so I decided to stop by.”

“Well who’s this?” Ori and Bilbo turned to see Bungo at the doorway. Behind him were Thorin and Dwalin. Both appeared speechless.

“Dad, this is Smaug.” Bilbo quickly made introductions. “We met at Rivendell. He’s very nice – I told him to stop by if he were in the area.”

“Come in then,” Bungo said, allowing Smaug to pass through. “My wife makes tea very well.” Bungo shook Thorin and Dwalin’s hands – though they seemed more apprehensive – and the two trailed off.

Ori walk to Dwalin hesitantly. “I’m glad I got to meet you,” he said shyly, “And I’m sorry you have to go.” “’m sorry too.” Dwalin said kindly. The younger dwarf swallowed. “You’ll write though, right?”

Dwalin nodded. He then turned to Bilbo and said good-bye. The captain got on his pony, and waited for Thorin.

The Prince turned to Ori, and stiffly bade him good-bye. Then, he turned to Bilbo. The hobbit was surprised to see a distant look in Thorin’s gaze. “I hope you enjoy planting your trees.” He finally said. While Bilbo gave a confused good-bye, Thorin got on his pony, and the two rode off.

Bilbo wanted to comment on how odd that had been, but when he turned to Ori, the other dwarf seemed sad. Knowing why, Bilbo decided not to reflect on the good-bye until later. After a moment, Ori had brightened again.

“Let’s go back into the house, before Mama Belladonna scares your sweetheart away.”

The sound of laughter as the hobbit chased the dwarf echoed round Bag End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to put as many happy, cheerful moments as I can before the depressing plot points hit. Because it's going to get rather sad rather soon. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Want to discuss the idea that every city you've ever been in could be overthrown by puppies? Drop a review, send a message, use carrier pigeon - do whatever the kids are doing these days.


	9. Visits, Proposals, and Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smaug is interested, but in whom? A proposal is made, and he Bungo and Belladonna have a jape at Azog’s expense by sacrificing their family’s dignity. Balin and Dori return to quite the commotion, and letters are sent and received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest chapter for me to write – it was hard to find the motivation. But I wanted to keep my new promise of one chapter per day. Also, I’m including one of the most pivotal scenes that was IN Pride and Prejudice here, and I’m terrified of writing it. (I’ll give you a hint: It’s the reason I was scared of making Belladonna the equivalent of Mrs. Bennet).

Chapter 9

 

Belladonna and Bungo trusted their birth son’s judgment of character. Bilbo could always get to the bottom of someone’s intentions and what that person truly wanted.

So when he introduced Smaug to them with a smile, saying that the dwarf was a good friend, his parents didn’t hesitate to let him in. Smaug seemed pleasant enough. He told them about how a friend had wanted to meet him in Bree, and when he realized how close it was to the Shire, he couldn’t help but want to drop by and see Bilbo.

“Also, I heard about the remarkable story about the family that raised Ori. I hope you forgive me, but I simply had to meet you all. It struck me how close family could really be.”

Bungo wasn’t overly fond of flatterers, but after Bilbo told him about Smaug’s story, he supposed the reaction made sense. Though it shocked him to hear that Thorin had done what he did. The Prince seemed not to think too highly of his family – don’t think that Bungo hadn’t noticed – but it seemed rather out of character for the dwarf to be so callous.

Bilbo and Ori spent the day showing Smaug around town. He provided a good distraction for the two of them, and Ori found it easy to talk to the other dwarf. Bilbo was right – Smaug was incredibly nice and charming. When they got back though, Lobelia was sitting at the front lawn. It wasn’t that Bilbo didn’t want to talk to her, but the two always had the same tastes in hobbits. For them to like the same dwarrow would be logical, and for once he just wanted to have a harmless flirtation.

Smaug didn’t seem to agree.

“Well, who is this lovely lass?” He asked when Lobelia got up to curtsy. Bilbo hated her in that moment.

“You flatter me,” She said, with a fake air of bashfulness, “I’m Bilbo’s cousin, Lobelia.” He kissed her hand, and Bilbo’s heart sank.

That hadn’t been something Smaug did for finding him special. He did that to anyone apparently.

Smaug continued to ask her a little more about herself, and the brother’s realized – after several failed attempts to join the conversation – that they had lost Smaug’s attention. Now, his focus was solely on Lobelia, and she loved it. Not wanting his brother to have to stand for this, Ori bade them both good day and steered Bilbo back into the house.

“Why?” Bilbo asked him. Ori gave him a hug. Bilbo looked sad.

“I mean, I don’t love him.” Bilbo said, “But it was nice to feel wanted.” Ori said nothing.

“Why does everyone like her more?”

Ori gave him another hug.

            --

Smaug left after dinner. He was perfectly charming to the entire family, but did notably give most of his attention to Lobelia. By now, Bilbo had calmed down from his talk with Ori. In his rationale mind, he knew that any flirting he and Smaug had shared couldn’t possibly go anywhere. And it was hardly Lobelia’s fault. She _was_ a really pretty hobbit-lass, and she knew it. When the time came, she’d have her pick of any hobbit she wanted for a husband.

Azog seemed oblivious to the tension that Smaug brought to the table. During the day, he had gone into town to meet a few of his workers, and spoke to Bungo about his successes. No doubt, he wanted Bilbo to listen in on what he had to say, so the younger hobbit could see what a good partner he’d make. The middle brother listlessly pushed his food around his plate.

Bilbo, deep down, wanted to love someone. He’d let himself get carried away with a flatterer, when he should’ve known better. It was far better to just focus on his own life, and let someone come along naturally. That was what happened to Ori.

Bungo and Belladonna didn’t comment on the change in events, but they noticed it. At least Lobelia didn’t seem to act snide about it. She politely answered his questions, and pretended not to understand him when he said something a little too flirtatious. At after-dinner tea, she even pretended to come down with the same cold her parents had, and managed to be excused to bed early. It also spared her from having to give Smaug a hug or a kiss good-bye. When the dwarf said good-bye to the others, they politely – but stiffly – bade him farewell.

            --

Lobelia had left early the next morning – her parents were feeling better. She gave her cousins all hugs, and thanked Bungo and Belladonna for looking after her. Bilbo got the longest hug, which was how they always said sorry. Plans were made to see each other in a few days, and she was off.

Afterwards, Bilbo sat on the front porch chair in the lawn, and smoked his pipe. Ori would have been with him, but there were times that Bilbo needed a moment alone. This was one of those times. Smoking from a pipe had been something he’d seen his father do in his childhood, and Bilbo always imagined himself doing it when he turned of age. On his 30th birthday, Bungo had presented him with a beautifully made pipe for the purpose, and Bilbo treasured it. Sunday mornings were a time for him to relax, smoke his pipe, and feel like an old man. That’s what Belladonna told the others so they’d leave him alone. Her Bilbo was so much like her, and she understood that while there were times to be loud and to be around others, there was also a time when a hobbit needed to be alone. This was that time.

Bilbo’s eyes were closed, and he lazily stretched out over the sun. On Sunday mornings, he didn’t need to think about the confusing dwarrows who had left, or the unfortunate flirt he had momentarily fallen for. Or even the awkward hobbit who Bilbo could barely tolerate.  Only his pipe mattered.

Trust Azog to ruin that.

“Good morning, Bilbo.”

Bilbo was going to hurt him.

“As you are not busy,” forget hurt – make that murder, “I wanted to speak with you now. It is a matter of great importance.” Bilbo gave a false smile. “Go right ahead” _while I plot about slicing your left arm off._

“I am rather fond of you.” Oh lord. Azog couldn’t even begin a marriage proposal without making it stiff and awkward! “And it would be of kind of you to accept a marriage proposal, should I ask your parents.”

Bilbo felt like he couldn’t breathe. He swallowed. “A-azog… I don’t know if I can.”

The hobbit didn’t take the hint. “I see. I must ask your parents first then.” Bilbo spluttered, panicked. Before he could say much more, Azog turned back into the house.

\--

From the first night he brought up the prospect of pursuing Bilbo for marriage, Belladonna and Bungo plotted with all their heart as to deny him without forever offending the most powerful individual in west of Bree. It took a lot of planning, but they had a solution.

Cause a scene.

That way Azog would feel too embarrassed on their behalf to shame such an “off” family further.

It was perfect.

They had to do it carefully. Belladonna couldn’t be the one opposed to the marriage – it would only make the others look down on her for being an eccentric and unreasonable Took. But if Bungo said no, they wouldn’t be as poorly judged. The Baggins patriarch was still highly respected in the community, and if he said no, it had to be for a good reason. The plan was made. Now the family had to carry it out.

“This is insane! You are entirely ungrateful!” Belladonna was yelling at her beloved boy. The three of them were “talking” it over in Bungo’s study. Azog had brought the matter up with Belladonna after his fateful conversation with Bilbo. She then “congratulated” her son on his match, Azog right behind her. Bilbo fretted, claiming a number of different inconsequential excuses as to why he couldn’t accept. His mother then turned cross, asking Azog to give them a moment before dragging Bilbo off.

Azog assumed his future partner was simply nervous, and allowed the two to leave his sight. This meant that they only needed to make the dialogue work, which made it easier on them. Right now, Belladonna was pacing the study, flailing her arms about to help give her the volume she needed. It amused Bilbo to watch his mother act eccentric on purpose. He was standing in between his parents. Bungo was still seated by his study.

“Tell him I will never speak to him again if he refuses Azog!”

It was good no-one else was there. Mother was enjoying delivering her dramatic lines far too much. While she said the last part, she was actually _smiling_. Before Azog could walk in and see through the façade, Bungo decided it was time to end the conversation.

“Bilbo, do you understand the gravity of this situation?” His father finally asked. Bilbo looked at him. “Your mother has just declared that she will never speak to you if you refuse Azog. I, will never to speak to you again if you… do.”

He knew that was what Father would say, but it didn’t stop him from giving a few sobs in relief, and hugging Bungo. “Thank you.” Bilbo whispered desperately. Bungo sympathetically returned the hug. Belladonna stroked his back, her smile gone as a sincere look replaced it.

“Even if a _king_ wanted to marry you,” she whispered, “We wouldn’t say yes unless you loved him, let alone one well-to-do hobbit.”

If anyone asked, Bilbo Baggins had the best parents.

\--

Things had considerably quieted after that in Bag End. Dori and Balin had returned in time to watch Azog leave Bag End.

“Oh, leaving so soon?” Balin had lightly inquired as they approached. It was only a polite remark – he was actually looking forward to getting to know the Baggins’, who were basically Dori’s extended family without the other hobbit there.

It had surprised him that Azog had given the two of them a withering look, as if they had offended him in some way. “Business has come up, and my presence is needed elsewhere,” was the starch reply. Without so-much as a ‘Good Day’ the hobbit marched right off.

“Whatever was that about?” Dori remarked. Balin shrugged.

Frodo snickered from his spot on the front porch. “He asked Bilbo to marry him. Didn’t go to well.”

When the two made their way inside, Belladonna delighted in giving them the more detailed story, including a live reenactment of all the ridiculous things she’d said. She was a natural storyteller, and it made the two dwarrows laugh.   

As it was said before, things quieted down. At first, Bilbo enjoyed the fact that his life had returned to normal, and he could continue his day-to-day activities as he had before. But while he practiced writing with Ori, Bilbo could tell that Ori was not happy.

It’s not like his older brother was sad, or looked disappointed. But he did sigh a lot. The younger brother knew why – Dwalin had not sent any letters. Ori had written him, of course. Dori and Bilbo looked the letters over, acting as Ori’s chaperones (and nosy brothers), and even Balin made sure they went to the right address.

But no response.

At first, the noble dwarrow told them that Dwalin’s lack of response was nothing to worry about. The Captain kept a very busy schedule, and didn’t always stop to sleep or eat, let along write. Also, and this he said sheepishly, while Dwalin knew his letters, reading and writing wasn’t his strength.

Yet after three weeks of no response, Balin’s confidence descended. Late one night, he admitted to Dori that he was worried about his brother.

“The lad was besotted with young Ori. I don’t know what happened.” He whispered to Dori. The two were lying in Dori’s bed, face to face. Bungo and Belladonna acted like _their_ chaperones, and were very strict about the alone time they had. And if either Bungo or Belladonna caught them before going out (which was _all the time_ ), they sent Frodo with them to ensure their good behavior.  Dori thought it was ridiculous – he was older than them! And while Balin agreed it was a little excessive, he partly enjoyed the sneaking around because it made him feel young and foolish in a way he hadn’t been since Dwalin was a child.

Dori gave him a kiss then shifted. “It could just be what you said – that the Captain’s busy, and doesn’t have time.”

Balin gave a noncommittal hum. “I do appreciate,” Dori went on, “That you care about my brother.”

“He’s a good kid, and this is a good family. I’m happy to one-day join it, and if he knows what’s good for him, he will too.” Dori flushed, and kissed him again, in lieu of giving a response.

\--

The monotony was broken with the arrival of a letter. In the weeks since Balin and Dori’s conversation, the future brother-in-law began escorting Ori to Bree once a week, in the hopes that they would catch any letter from Erebor as soon as possible. The more Balin got to know Ori, the more he liked the young Dwarrow, and wanted him to be partnered with Dwalin. Dwalin had been with a far amount of dwarrows and dwarrow-dams, but Balin realized that Ori was very different then what his brother usually went for. As far as Balin was concerned, Ori would complement Dwalin well.

So when they came to Bad End with the excitement over having a letter, they’d assumed it was from Dwalin.

It wasn’t. It was from Nori, addressed to Dori.

The oldest Ri brother was shocked. Balin handed it to him, and the family watched in silence as Dori opened it and read it to himself. The family had just been getting ready to sit for dinner.

Before Belladonna could break under the silence, Frodo beat her to it. “What does it say?” Bilbo shushed him.

Dori looked at them. He seemed shocked. “Nori’s getting married. To Bofur. And we’ve all been invited.” Ori sat down in shock. “Well… congratulations?” Bilbo hadn’t meant it to sound like a question, but he couldn’t help it. “I didn’t know he was in a relationship.” Dori gave a rueful grin.

“Neither did I.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the highest regards to this chapter, but it was necessary as a transition piece. Things will definitely pick up though, I promise. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Under the impression that gooey cookies are the best cookies? Leave a message! I reply to them - let's chat!


	10. The Marketplace in the Lonely Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ori and Bilbo arrive in Erebor, and Ori meets his elusive older brother. And Balin takes him to Dwalin's office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a few days. I wanted to force the chapter to come, but you can't force it. I just needed to fall back into love with the story and let it write itself. This one is a little shorter, but we're moving right along.

Chapter 10

 

Standard process for a Dwarf courting consisted of a very specific timeline. There was a set amount of time where two perspective partners had small meetings and dates – this lasted anywhere from a few months to a year at most – it varied for each couple. These dates were to be arranged from members of each family, and a member of each family would usually chaperone. This was to make sure that the couple stayed respectable (and not get too rash), and it gave the families a chance to connect to ensure compatibility. Then, one would make his or her intentions clear to the other, and formally asked if they’d like to court. After an acceptance (if there was one) courting had a strict one-year timeline, and almost always ended with engagement. Marriage would then follow six months to the date.

Because of the familial process that was involved in the preliminary dating portion, Dori would have known if Nori were seeing someone. Their communication had been strained while Nori was in jail – partly because Nori wasn’t allowed too much communication and Dori had been so furious with him. After Nori’s release though, Dori realized that his brother genuinely cared about making a fresh start. The middle Ri brother accepted every aspect of his parole without question or anger. He even worked in the mines – which he hated doing. The two had met a few months after Nori’s release, and Dori learned that Nori had felt horrible about all the sacrifices Dori and Ori had made for him, and he wanted to be worthy of their love again. That had broken Dori’s heart. He’d been furious with him, true, but that hardly meant he didn’t love him.

They had worked on rebuilding their relationship, and remained open and honest with each other. That was why Dori was thrown by the wedding invitation. Nori would have _told_ him he was interested in someone. If not to deepen their trust, then because Dori needed to act as his chaperone!

He’d heard of Bofur, yes. Nori had told him about his friends in the mines, and couldn’t stop talking about the kind Ur family, and how dear of a friend Bofur was. Dori had sense there was an attraction, if the kind words and the fond tones were anything to go by. Though Nori would have had to ask him to call upon Bombur to arrange an outing. Not alert him to an upcoming marriage!

And there had been no time for courting. Or for an engagement. Mahal – the wedding was in one week!

There were so many different things for him to panic about.

Belladonna had been able to work out their speedy transportation to Erebor (the invitation had been for the entire Baggins family – and Frodo was delighted). She refused to share any details, but there were a certain group of Eagles that owed her a series of favors and life debts. The Baggins matriarch could think of no better opportunity to call upon some of those favors now, to go to a far-off dwarrow wedding for her dear friend (and adopted son’s!) brother.

That was how Dori found himself situated on the largest bird he’d ever seen, with Balin doing his best to calm him down. It was a combination of the suddenness of the wedding, and a very newly discovered fear of heights. Balin shared the fear, but to a smaller extent (likely because Dori had the concern about family impropriety). Dwarrows belonged on the ground. From what he could see with Ori and Bilbo, the hobbit was doing his best to keep Ori from looking either up or down.

It was far from comfortable, but instead of the three months journey (and that was if the party moved with minimal stops), it only took three days.

\--

Ori hadn’t imagined his first meeting with Nori to be quite like this.

Though honestly, he didn’t really imagine it at all.

His memories of before the Shire were hazy, and Dori was the only member of his dwarf family that he could give any amount of clarity to. Nori had always been off to the side, doing something else, being in other places. To him, Nori wasn’t a dwarf, but the reason he’d grown up in Bag End. It may have been callous, but it was the truth. Added to the fact that they never had correspondence the way he did with Dori, along with the fact that Mama Belladonna didn’t have any stories about him. Nori was too much of an obscure idea to be real. In a far-off distant way, Ori had always supposed one day they’d meet, but it was never given much thought.

Since Dori had been staying with them, his older brother had spent the time the two had together to tell him more about Nori. Dori did his best to give Ori an honest recount of the years he’d missed (though still being rather tight-lipped about his service to Lady Dis, which Bilbo and Balin both disapproved of). Ori understood that while his older brother had made mistakes, he was doing his best to atone and make up for them. It was something Ori could admire, at the very least.

But it seemed that Dori didn’t deem it fitting to tell him there was a star on Nori’s head.

The eagles had landed at the base of the mountain. Balin had been called away to take care of business, though he promised to meet them at Nori’s later. Dori led Ori and the rest of the Baggins family with them. Before they had entered, Belladonna had warned them that there would be stares. So as the odd group made their way to Nori’s home, they kept their heads high as if it were the Shire.

Dori gave a few loud knocks, and Ori heard a crash on the other side of the door. It started him, but from Dori’s lack of a response that seemed normal.

Which brought him to the dwarrow with the star on his head.

“Dori!” The star-dwarf hugged his brother, who smiled and hugged him back. It was then the other man saw him, and froze. His smile faded away, and he let go of Dori. Suddenly, he seemed nervous, and almost afraid.

“D’you remember me?” He asked hopefully. Something inside Ori twinged, and he felt terrible. The urge to lie was strong, but he’d never been able to fib successfully (it was why he was never let in on pranks).

“Sorry, no sir.” The other man looked distraught.

Dori looked regretful – _why hadn’t he shown Ori sketches_ – and his voice sounded incredibly awkward. “Ori, love, this is our brother Nori.”

“Oh…” What in Yavanna’s name was he supposed to do? Shake his hand? Instead, he channeled his father. Bungo was always polite with distant family. So he gave a, “How do you do?” like a proper hobbit would. Nori made a sound that was a cross between a choke and a laugh, and Ori found himself in a hug. His newly-met brother buried his face in his neck, and didn’t let go.

Not to take away from the moment, Dori ushered the rest of the family into the door and directed them to a living room. He then returned to the front door to bring Nori and Ori inside, forcing them to separate.

“Let Nori and I have a chat.” Dori said to Ori, who gave a grateful nod and left the room. Nori didn’t look much happier, and that expression got worse when he heard Dori’s statement. He sighed.

“Look, you just got here, I’m seein’ Ori for the first time, do we really have to-“

“ _Yes_ , we really have to,” his older brother retorted. Nori gave an exasperated sigh and stomped into the kitchen. Dori rolled his eyes and followed.

As soon as they were in the room, Dori let out everything he’d been fretting over since receiving the letter.

“What were you _thinking_? _Were_ you thinking?” Dori was hissing. “This is hardly ideal for the family – _especially_ with Ori about to move into the mountain!” Nori knew that when his older brother was in this mode of fretting, it was best to let him speak to his heart’s content and then respond.

“You weren’t thinking at all! You know the rules to this sort of thing!” The eldest continued. “There are rules we are bound to follow. And you are breaking all of them! Bofur, from the few times I’ve met him, seems perfectly lovely, and his family is certainly agreeable. I would not mind comparing recipes with Bombur, but you need to put off the wedding by at least two years for it to all be proper, and for there to be no lost respect on either side.”

“Bof and I don’t have time for proper!” Nori finally replied. “And we can’t all be perfect like you and that fancy lord.” Dori had written to him about staying in the Shire a little longer, and about Balin. The eldest brother glowered.

“Don’t bring Balin and I into this – this is about you acting rashly!” Dori took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “Just give the two of you a year of formal courtship, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“You think I don’t know that? I’d’ve loved to do the standard year!” Nori was indignant, “We just… had to rush things a bit.” Dori paled.

“Nori… you didn’t.”

“Bofur’s pregnant.” Nori confessed. Dori buried his face in his hands. “Nori…”

“Hey!” The middle Ri brother looked indignant. “Look – I know it’s not ideal, and it doesn’t exactly look good for us, what with Ori moving back in, but it happened.” His face took an earnest look. “Dori, I love him. And he loves me. We got too eager, and acted like idiots, but neither of us regret what we’re doing. And yeah,” now he looked sheepish, “Bombur and Bifur look like they’re gonna kill me whenever they look at me, but Bofur’s happy, and that’s really all that matters.”

It wasn’t fair for his younger brother to say something that heart-felt. Dori felt his frustration slipping away. Nori was right. They couldn’t wait two years, and he may as well make the best of this. He sighed. “Well what’s done is done.” Nori gave a relieved grin. “But there needs to be a family meeting.” The former thief nodded in agreement.

\--

Sometime during Dori’s yelling tirade, his intended had arrived in their home. Balin saw Belladonna wave at him from another room, and went to meet them. He noticed Ori looking rather rattled. It never occurred to him that the last time he’d seen Nori, he would been a small child. And to meet him now, as he was getting married. Well. It was probably overwhelming for the shy dwarf.

“Why don’t we visit my brother?” Balin was a diplomat at heart, and always knew the best distractions. Dori and Nori wouldn’t be done for a while, and it would be good for him to get Ori out for a few hours. Best for him to show the lad around the city before he moved permanently. By the faint blush Ori had in response, he’d chosen a good alternative location.

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Belladonna agreed. “Take Bilbo and Ori – we’ll explore on our own.” Balin preferred to take a smaller number to his brother’s office, and trusted Belladonna to take care of herself, her husband, and the youngest Baggins. Balin agreed.

\--

Shirefolk had simple pleasures. Mealtimes were kept with strict punctuality, as were all shopping trips and social engagements. He’d always liked going with Belladonna, Bilbo and Frodo to the market to graze through the calm streets and engage in polite conversation with the grocers about their crops. It was a peaceful chance to get outside, and not be chased for stealing mushrooms (never was he babysitting Merry or Pippin again). So when Balin suggested a quick short-cut through the Erebor Marketplace, Ori was game.

Ori was completely unprepared for Erebor.

The loud noises, the fighting for better prices, and the close proximity of all the vendors were incredibly overwhelming. Even with Balin’s commanding demeanor, which made their trip through the crowd go faster, it was still a struggle. They’d lost Bilbo three times because of the hobbits’ short nature. It never occurred to Ori just how small his Baggins family really was – he’d always stood as the odd, tall one out back in the Shire. Here, he blended in with everyone, and Bilbo was the one who got swallowed up. By the time they made their way through, Ori and Balin were half pulling, half carrying his closest friend along.

“Sorry about that.” The cacophony had clearly winded Balin as well. “I’ve been out of the Mountain for a while – I forget the commotion of the marketplace at this time of day.”

“It’s alright.” Ori said, because that was what he was supposed to say. Bilbo was silent. The thoughts about how small he was in other locations were not considered by Ori alone.

Thankfully, it was but a few twists and turns thereafter that they arrived at an Officer’s building. “As you two know,” Balin said, as they approached, “My brother is the Captain of the guard. While many in that position would put their office in the palace itself, Dwalin prefers to be thought of as a Guard of Erebor whilst in the Mountain. Therefore, his office is in the heart of the city.”

The front door was unlocked. Balin opened it. There was a dwarf sitting near the entrance, and he was filling out paperwork.

“Hello Kurien,” Balin greeted, “Is my brother upstairs?”

Kurien looked up, and gave a short nod. “No. Dwalin’s been gone f’r weeks. Got called to the Iron Hills for Dain.”

“Gone?” Bilbo was shocked to hear Ori speak up so abruptly. Kurien eyed him in confusion. “Who’re you?”

“His name is Ori.” Balin cut in. “Any relation to Nori?” Kurien asked suspiciously. Bilbo saw something in Balin sag. It was subtle, but it was there. “They’re brothers.”

Ori stiffened a little – the truth was that he was more of a brother to Lobelia then to the dwarf he’d just met for the first time in memory – but as far as blood went, Balin was right.

Kurien sneered. “Well, ‘m not sure wha’ he’s gonna be wantin’ here.” Balin narrowed his eyes and retorted, “It’s a personal matter.”

“Well, ‘e’s not ‘ere.” Kurien repeated, “And his lady-friend was already here askin’.”

“Lady friend?” this time Bilbo cut in while Ori went white. “Yeah.” Then Kurien seemed to get a good look at Bilbo. “The hell are you?”

“A Hobbit.”

“Never seen one. You got big feet for a tiny lad.” Bilbo bristled, and Balin quickly bade a hasty goodbye and pulled them out before it got too ugly.

“Ori, I have no idea what he could have meant.” Were the first words out of Balin’s mouth. The other dwarrow looked back at him, and Bilbo felt his own heart breaking.

“It’s ok.” Ori’s tone was light and polite. The way it was with strangers, or whenever Ori had mentally retreated from a conversation. Bilbo couldn’t blame him. After the marketplace and the office, he wasn’t sure if there was a bright side to the day.

“Dwalin must have received a mission after arriving that took him out of Erebor.” Balin reasoned. “And that’s why he didn’t write either of us. I’m certain of it.” It was said with such sincerity that Bilbo wanted to believe him, but he saw the doubt in Ori’s eyes.

“There are other dwarrows I can call upon.” Balin continued, speaking more to himself then the other two now. “Though I wonder if- Thorin?”

Bilbo froze, and whirled around to see a very familiar dwarrow look back at him in shock. “Bilbo?”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can promise the next one will be getting us into the more heated plot, that will remind everyone why Bilbo/Thorin is the main relationship (curse all the self-indulgent exposition I've been writing to gratuitously give myself a sequel. )
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Interested in debating the merits of that one streetlight that always flickers on and off, as if to warn you of a terrible calamity approaching? Drop a message! I reply to them - I get awfully lonely.


	11. Conversations and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo runs into a familiar face, but Thorin is full of surprises. Though not all necessarily good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So terribly sorry for the wait! I spent the weekend in New York, and fumbled through inspiration. But it is here. Also, don't despair about any concerns of my leaving this work eternally unfinished - the epilogue is completed. Mostly because I'm approaching the sad parts of the story, and I don't want to dwell on that. Also, for those who are interested, I've been planning the sequels to this. With luck, this will turn into a trilogy, where this story focuses on Bilbo's story as "Elizabeth". The second one will be Ori's story, and the third is Frodo's. Stay tuned to learn about what popular film I will take inspiration from for each.

Chapter 11

 

Balin brightened at seeing the other dwarrow, and walked over the greet him. Thorin gave his advisor a smile and returned the greeting. “How have you been?” Balin inquired. Thorin replied that he was doing well, and returned the question. “Much better.” Balin answered, “I feel as if I could do anything. Courting and spending time in the Shire will do that to you.” Thorin gave a wry grin (and it surprised Bilbo to see that kind of an emotion on Thorin’s face)

 “We didn’t think you’d come back.” The prince said to Balin.

“There’s a certain appeal to never wanting to leave the Shire.” His advisor confessed. “But Dori’s brother is getting married, so it was time to come back home.” Thorin seemed to stiffen, and he glanced at Ori over Balin’s shoulder. The other dwarrow followed the look and then laughed.

“Oh-heavens no! Nori, not Ori.” Thorin gave a nod, but it was more out of a polite inquiry then genuine interest. It annoyed Bilbo.

Thorin turned his gaze to Ori, and said a polite hello. It was returned softly – Ori was rattled by Dwalin’s disappearance and the news of a “lady friend.” Though Thorin didn’t know Ori well enough to read his expressions, and took the short responses to inquiries on his brother’s in good stride. Bilbo couldn’t hold his ignorance of Ori offensive – they had hardly spent anytime speaking back in Rivendell, and few could actually read Ori. It had taken him years, and they were best friends.  

“Hello, Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin said, looking at him finally. He politely asked about his parents and Frodo (but he did at least seem interested in hearing about the youngest brother being quite taken with his kingdom). “How are you finding Erebor?” Thorin continues. Bilbo was a little surprised that Thorin was continuing the conversation.

But maybe it was time to stop being so surprised by the Prince. Yes, Thorin had been incredibly rude when they first met, but that had been quite some time ago. They had talked several times since then both in Bree, and then to and in Rivendell. Thorin had made for a good conversationalist and even expressed interest in the hobbies that Bilbo kept. It was certainly more than what Smaug had done, with his flattery and one-sided conversations. Perhaps Thorin wanted to be his friend. Perhaps Bilbo could use a friend.

“It’s very… intense.” Bilbo said after a moment’s though. Thorin seemed to chuckle. That inspired Bilbo to keep speaking. “We went through the market-place to get here, and I got swallowed by your large crowds three times!” That comment made the other dwarrow laugh. It was a rather pleasant sound.

During the interaction, Balin and Ori kept quiet. It was hard to decipher Balin’s gaze.

“I’m going to take Ori to the Great Library.” He announced. “I received correspondence about a potential position just before we left.” Then he turned to Thorin. “You should show Bilbo more of the Kingdom.” Balin started to lead Ori away before he could reply. Thorin looked back at Bilbo, and seemed to smile at him.

“Perhaps I shall.”

\--

“Erebor is a vast kingdom of riches, all in different parts of the mountain,” Thorin was saying as they strolled through mostly-empty corridors. The story about Bilbo being swallowed by the market-place had been amusing, but he seemed to have no real desire to attempt going back. They stayed mostly in near-empty hallways and what felt like hidden hallways, which Bilbo was quite thankful for.

“And you have miners that retrieve the gems for you then?” Thorin replied in the affirmative. “And do all dwarrow mine?”

“Some shall,” The prince said. Bilbo couldn’t exactly tell what the dwarrow was thinking, but he seemed to enjoy explaining more about his home. He considered it fair trade, for Thorin had been very keen on learning about the Shire. Also, Bilbo was interested in learning about Erebor. One day Ori would be living here permanently (he ignored the ache in his heart at the thought) and there was something about the way that Thorin’s eyes lit up when speaking of the kingdom.

“When a dwarf reaches near-adulthood, they develop certain talents for a trade or craft. Their family will then arrange an apprenticeship for the dwarf to a guild that specializes in the field. Most of us will go to the mines though, because it is the most profitable of ventures, and every dwarrow can hear the calling of the mountain, the allure of different gems.”

Bilbo smiled. “It must sound lovely, I’m sure to a dwarrow. Hobbits are more inclined to work _with_ the Earth, as opposed to _under_ it.” Thorin nodded.

“Of course. You hobbits prefer your homes, armchairs, fires, pipes, and planting.” Bilbo was glad Thorin couldn’t see his face, for his eyes had widened in shock. How in the Valar had Thorin remembered that?

Thorin seemed uncomfortable in his silence. “I apologize.” His earlier ease of conversation had vanished. “I just… my memory is near-perfect, and that conversation in particular seemed to resonate.”

“It’s no problem at all.” Bilbo recovered. He felt guilty to see Thorin so uncomfortable. But for once in his life, he couldn’t think of anything to say that could smooth over the silence. Thorin seemed to have an answer.

The dwarf stopped them in the middle of a hallway. “If you’ll follow me,” he said, turning left. Bilbo followed him through an alcove, and couldn’t help but gasp.

It was a garden.

“My mother kept a garden, when she was alive.” Thorin was explaining, while Bilbo slowly, methodically, walked along the perimeter. His eyes drank in every different bush and flowerbed. “She always liked flowers, and the different shades of green things.”

It took Bilbo a few moments, but he finally managed to look at Thorin. “Thank you for showing me this.” He whispered. The dwarf smiled, looking pleased with himself.

“It’s no problem. My sister, brother and I took turns keeping it up after she passed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Thorin’s eyes looked pained to speak of his mother, but he shook away Bilbo’s condolences. “It is alright, it was many years ago. Keeping after her garden helped the three of us move on. It was a closure our father did not receive. He passed shortly after of a broken heart.”

Bilbo repeated a condolence, and Thorin told him not to worry, though his words were kind. “My grandfather is currently ruling.” He continued, sitting on the only bench at the garden’s center. Bilbo joined him.

“I didn’t know you were a gardener.”

“’Gardner’ is too generous of a word.” Thorin replied, “I could never manage something as nice as your garden back home.” It wasn’t fair, the way a statement uttered so matter-of-factly could turn his stomach in circles.

“Oh – I almost forgot.” The dwarf reach on his other side, opposite of Bilbo, and then sat straight.

“Here is an acorn, for your collection.”

It seemed that Thorin was full of surprises.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d remember this too.” Bilbo carefully fingered the acorn in his hands. “This is perfectly lovely, thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome.” Thorin answered. A now-comfortable silence fell, and Bilbo took in the beauty of the small garden before him.

Thorin spoke after a few moments. “It you like, I am supposed to meet my sister for dinner. If you are uncommitted to any plans, perhaps you’d like to join us.”

Thorin’s sister. The Lady Dis. The Princess Under The Mountain. Dori had worked for her for years. Bilbo swallowed, but could think of no reason to refuse. Besides, they had just had a wonderful conversation and walk. Maybe Thorin wasn’t nearly as arrogant as their first meeting had suggested. Bilbo was big enough to admit when he was wrong.

“I would love to.”

\--

Thorin helped Bilbo pull one of his servants to send word to the Ri residence that he would not be there.

“It’ll be for the best.” Bilbo remarked to Thorin as he watched the dwarf turn the corner. “The Ri family is supposed to meet with the Ur family for the wedding, and I was not sure where we would be finding ourselves.”

“You haven’t seen a dwarf wedding, have you?” Thorin asked. Bilbo shook his head as Thorin led him in a different direction.

“No matter how grand or small, they have the same sequence of events. One partner is led down a procession by the head of the family, to be married by a member of either the judiciary guild or of the Royal Family. They swear to honor and love one another. After there is a celebration, usually lasting three hours.”

“That’s not too different from a hobbit’s.” Bilbo remarked, “Though members of both families wear flowers in their hair. And it’s the one celebration where the couple will receive gifts rather than give them. And our celebration focuses on eating and dancing. Depending on the couple, it can go on and on. I once went to a wedding that lasted an entire day!”

The prince began to laugh, loudly. Those they passed by openly gaped – it was a rare occurrence to see Prince Thorin, usually so stone-faced, laugh as if he had no care in the world.

They continued to compare hobbit traditions to dwarf ones as Thorin showed Bilbo deeper and deeper into the mountain. It was the quarters of the royal family.   

“My sister’s place is not far from here.” Bilbo smiled at him. He hoped Thorin could not tell how the statement made him so very nervous.

\--

Bilbo didn’t know what he had expected of the Lady Dis, but he knew the dwarrowdam before him was not what he had imagined.

She was perfectly lovely. Dis looked nearly identical to her brother, the only difference really being that her hair was slightly longer, and her build was slightly slimmer.

When Bilbo entered, Thorin introduced them. Dis gave him a warm hug, and then introduced him to her son’s (Thorin’s heirs) Fili and Kili. They were young, probably a year or two younger then Frodo. It was apparent that Dori had had a hand in teaching them manners, and their actions were also similar to Balin’s in the way they greeted Bilbo. But Bilbo knew young hobbits around Frodo’s age, and it was plainer then day that the princes had a mischievous streak to them. It was then that he silently decided that they would not meet Frodo if he could help it.

Dinner had been a pleasant affair. Dis was a perfectly gracious host, and everyone was remarkably friendly. Vili, her husband, was very amiable, and was curious about the different habits of hobbits. Thorin had a relaxed air about him that Bilbo had never seemed, and Bilbo was entertained by watching him speak in such an animated fashion to his sisters and nephews. In the midst of the dinner, a knock had sounded at the entrance to her rooms. Vili went to answer, and returned a moment later to tell Thorin that it was for him.

“I’m sorry about this.” Thorin reappeared a moment later. “It seems that the King needs his Heir.” It was said lightly, but with a slight scowl. Bilbo suspected he didn’t want to leave such a pleasant affair.

“Well, duty calls.” Dis remarked, while Thorin clasped Vili, and gave his nephews hugs good-bye. He then faced Bilbo. “I’m sorry to leave you like this.” His gaze was truly regretful.”

“It’s alright – I’ll see you around, yes?” Bilbo asked. Thorin nodded, and smiled at him. He then left.

After that, the topics of conversation drifted. Bilbo updated Dis on how Dori was doing – she was happy for him and Balin. Dis told him a little more about the history of the Mountain, and even had a few anecdotes of her two brothers growing up. These appeared to be stories that not even Fili and Kili knew, for they began to listen in earnest.

“Oh, the trouble Thorin, Frerin, and Dwalin would get in!” Dis was saying. Bilbo had been laughing, when he heard Dwalin’s name. The hobbit fell silent. “Have you heard from Dwalin?” Bilbo asked, “I had met him when I first met Thorin and Balin, and I was wondering where he was.”

“Well, that’s an interesting story.” Dis said, with a twinkle in her eye. Bilbo learned forward, “It turned out that Dwalin became rather besotted with someone out west.” Bilbo stilled. “But really,” she continued, not noticing his posture, “The other didn’t seem to keen. Actually, he didn’t seem interested at all. His mother was pushing for him to even speak to Dwalin!”

A pit was forming in Bilbo’s stomach.

“Plus, it became obvious that they only wanted Dwalin to be interested so the lad would have access to his money.”

Numbness took over now.

“So when Thorin and Dwalin headed back, Thorin of course had to talk some sense into our cousin. But Dwalin needed some time to think, so he agreed to escort Frerin to the Iron Hills to stay with our cousin Lord Dain. A shame they won’t be back until after the wedding – Frerin would have loved you.”

What was the proper decorum one kept, when one discovered that the happiness of one’s brother was ruined forever? Bilbo doubted his father would have an answer.

“Is everything alright?” This was Fili who spoke up now. “You look different.” Kili tilted his head to the side and nodded in agreement.

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine.” Bilbo lied, “But I’m feeling a little overwhelmed after today.” He turned toward Dis and Vili. “I’m terribly sorry, but might I excuse myself? I hadn’t imagined staying this long from my family today.”

Dis and Vili told him it would be no problem at all. Bilbo politely yet firmly warded off their offers to guide him back. After a few light-hearted good-byes, Bilbo left the residence.

It was unbelievable. That Thorin had spent as much time with him as he did – the man gave him an acorn! Only to have those opinions of his Ori, his family? The nerve! Bilbo felt lied too. It was his fault that his brother was so miserable. And Bilbo had spent the entire day with him!

Fondness had been growing in Bilbo’s heart for the awkward but appealing dwarf.

It was replaced by fury. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last we have found some drama. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Want to know why I always mention something random in the last question? Leave a comment or a message. I like to reply to them - I get terribly lonely here, where I am.


	12. Wedding And Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bofur and Nori are wed, but that doesn't stop the day from becoming one of Bilbo's worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter wasn't the hardest one (that one was a while back), but it’s probably the most important one that everyone reading this has been waiting for. I only hope I do it justice. As silly as it sounds, I love Bagginshield, and it’s painful to put them through angst. Also, I've created my own made up procession of Dwarven weddings. I've included a Jewish tradition - the document they will sign is the Dwarven equivalent of a ketubah (which is like a marriage contract in Hebrew that a husband and wife sign on their wedding day). A small teaser – all the writing I’ve done to explain how dwarven courting works in this story will become apparent in the sequel I've been hinting at. That one is also based off of a film, though you would never guess that I would make it the sequel to a Jane Austen story. Also it’s amazing how much work I put into this when I should be doing a paper.

Chapter 12

Dwarrow weddings, like their courting rituals, were an ornate process. While Nori and Bofur’s wedding was nothing too extravagant (there wasn’t enough time for planning that sort of thing, and neither were too fond of such things anyway), it was rather beautiful.

Bilbo felt numb the entire time.

Nori had been escorted to the altar by Dori, to stand before another dwarf behind a podium.

“I, Dori of the house Ri, present my brother Nori to be wed.” This was spoken to the dwarf Bilbo did not know. That dwarf (probably a member of the judiciary, but _don’t think_ _about how you knew that_ ) gave a simple nod. Dori then enveloped his younger brother into his arms, and kissed his cheek. He left to sit in the first row on the other side – the families swapped sides to better demonstrate the blending. As immediate kin, Dori and Ori sat in the very front row on what would be Bofur’s side. The Baggins family sat behind, and that summed up Nori’s guests.

Bombur then led Bofur down the aisle in the same fashion Dori had done. The older dwarf then said to the officiate, “Nori, of house Ri pledged to commit himself to my kin, Bofur. After witnessing proof of his claim, I, Bombur, of the Ur house present Bofur to his intended to be wed.” He then wrapped his arms around Bofur, and only reluctantly let go after the younger dwarf gave a subtle cough. Bombur took his seat next to Bifur in the front row on Nori’s side. Behind them sat Bombur’s family.

“Nori and Bofur have been presented by their house to join together and form their own. Which name shall you take?” The two glanced at each other, and then Nori spoke, “Ri.”

The officiate stood behind a podium, quill in hand. At Nori’s proclamation, he made a few marks. “The following document has been inscribed in our language of _Khuzdel_. May the words of our maker be as binding as your vow today to forever stand by one another. But before you inscribe your names, you must present your beads to one another.

This time, Ori and Bifur stood up, and made their way to the center. Ori passed the bead to Nori, while Bifur did the same for Bofur.

After both beads were braided, the dwarrow asked that they swear to one another their undying devotion, faithfulness, and loyalty. Both repeated the phrases. Finally, the document was presented before them, and they signed it. The officiate then took the document and placed it away.

“In one weeks’ time, this will be returned to you after it has been officially recorded, but you two are now officially married.”

It was as if a dam broke between them. Where both dwarves had been formal on the verge of stiffness, with the news of their marriage, they lunged at each other. Bofur reached out to grab Nori’s face and pull him in for a kiss. Not to be upstaged, Nori dipped him rather dramatically.

Belladonna laughed loudly, and was possibly the loudest to cheer. Dori was trying to wipe away his tears, and firmly denied that he was crying (“ _There’s no need for you handkerchief Bungo, it’s just the dust in this tiny room_ ”).

Ori was giving a small smile, and Bilbo felt nothing at all.

\--

The reception had been the same wedding party at Nori’s. In the sitting room, there was laughter, music, and singing. Bilbo found that he enjoyed Bofur’s company, and his songs were wonderful to listen to. It turned out that the dwarf was a fan of riddles and stories, and Bilbo found himself enjoying the party in his contest to one-up Bofur in riddling. A shame that his family would be leaving so soon – it seemed that he and Bofur could have been good friends.

Bofur was in the middle of trying to scare Bilbo and Frodo about stories of the Dragons of the First Age when a knock sounded at the door. This caused a moment of confusion, where the occupants of the room took a moment to glance about. Ori even started to subtly count, to make sure they hadn’t lost anyone from the wedding. Dori went to answer the door.

A moment later, he returned, blushing ever-so-slightly. “Balin is at the door.” The eldest Ri brother explained. Nori’s eyes lit up in a way that only a mischievous brother could make. “Well why doesn’t he join us?” Dori huffed, but left to do as he said.

“That’s awful! You’re a troll!” Bofur mock-yelled at Nori. The dwarrow smirked at him. “I’m your troll,” he drastically showed off the bead, “ _forever_.”

Balin followed Dori into the room, and gave a hello to everyone. Then, he directly walked to Bilbo.

“Thorin is outside.” He said quietly to him, but he was still overheard. “He wanted to talk to you.”

Bilbo’s heart hammered in his chest, and he didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he nodded and walked outside.

Thorin was standing outside the door. Thinking about everything he’d learned was hard enough, but the pain and anger he felt as seeing the dwarf was indescribable. Unaware to the hobbit’s turmoil, Thorin gave him a smile.

“Hello, Mr. Baggins. I’m sorry to be interrupting you from the wedding. I should only be a moment.” Thorin paused, but when Bilbo didn’t say anything, he continued, “Normally, I would wait to do these things, but I understand that your family will be going back to your Shire in just a few short days, and I needed to approach you now.” This lead to another pause, and the prince looked to gauge Bilbo’s response. Yet he was still silent, unsure of how to exactly say what he needed to. Thorin seemed a tad flustered, but continued on.

“As a prince, I have many different obligations to my kingdom and people. And for a long time, I imagined that this included losing my freedom to see whomever I wished. However, my grandfather and I have just appointed my nephew Fili my heir, and this has allowed me to pursue certain….liberties… I hadn’t conceived.”

Where was this headed?

“Our time together has been brief, but no-one else has captivated me the way you have.” Bilbo’s eyes widened. Thorin continued, appearing to need all the courage he could get, “And I have grown very fond of you. If, perhaps, you could be persuaded to remain in Erebor after your family leaves, I would like the chance to Date you. In spite of your background, I believe we are well suited for one another.”

Never had Bilbo excerisized such self-control in his life. The gall. The nerve. This dwarf ruins his brother’s life, insults his mother, betrayed a childhood friend, and just proposed Dating? With the lowly hobbit who had been beneath him?

“I wished to inquire something of you.” Bilbo’s tone was pure ice, a contrast to the fire he felt in his blood.

“What is the matter?” Thorin seemed confused by bite in Bilbo’s words.

There were so many things Bilbo needed to do. Scream. Cry. Hit him. All would feel wonderful. None of them would give him satisfaction.

“I only need to ask one thing.” Thorin took a step back – the absolute venom in his voice was enough to erect a physical barrier. “How could you ever expect me to take anything you said seriously? When I had to find out from your gossip of a sister the true feelings you hold towards my family, and of my low stature!”

It seemed that Thorin had not expected that remark. “What?”

“I heard everything! About how you have ruined the happiness of my treasured older brother! I know you’re the one who sent Dwalin to the Iron Hills so he’d not write Ori – and that you actively plotted to get him away from his older brother! That you accused my family of being nothing more then _gold-seekers_ in a quest to see our Ori married to the highest bidder! And you expect me to take your proposal as something series? Just who do you think you are?”

The accusations visibly caught Thorin off-guard, and he glared at the hobbit. “I saw them together,” the prince said to Bilbo, “I saw how your mother was pushing him to my cousin. Dwalin fell for him and your ‘brother’ didn’t seem too inclined.”

There was fire racing through Bilbo’s being, and Thorin’s emphasis on ‘brother’ made it worse. “Ori is shy! He doesn’t show affection to anyone!”

“He seems engaged with you.” Thorin remained resolute in his stance. The sheer stubbornness made Bilbo want to hate him.

“I spent twenty years talking to him for hours for Ori to feel comfortable holding a conversation with me in public and smile while doing so – he does that with no one else! Not even with our parents or Dori!”

While Thorin’s expression did not change, Bilbo could sense a shift. “Ori has never met a dwarrow before that day, aside from when Dori left him. We wanted him to open up. And we know him, and we could see how he felt. He just needed a push. And now, you have any eligible dwarrowdam calling upon his office. Ori is broken-hearted. Do you deny it?” It was said accusatorily, but in that moment Bilbo wished that Thorin could deny the whole thing. But Thorin said nothing.

Distraught, Bilbo decided to continue, “And as for my mother, she’s always been loud. It’s who she is, and she will never apologize for that. Every day she is judged just for what her maiden name happens to be, and is whispered about ever since she was a girl. Only because she speaks her mind, and wants what’s best for her family.”

Thorin had no response, but Bilbo was not done.

“And how could I take this seriously from you, with your treatment of Smaug?” That made him look angry. “My treatment?”

“He was your best friend!” Bilbo shot back, “I would never do half of what you did to Ori. And I don’t know how you live with yourself.” Thorin had no answer for him.

This wasn’t how he wanted the conversation to go. Or was it? He’d half-hoped that everything he’d heard had been false. But it wasn’t. Who was Thorin?

Thorin loved his sister, home, and nephews. He was interested about the Shire, about _Bilbo_. Who’d remembered the most inane of their conversations as if they were as important as his own responsibilities as heir. Who had been a perfectly gracious host over the last few days.

Thorin had been rude to him. Thorin had talked Dwalin out of pursuing Ori, and broke his heart. He had outright insulted his family, both to his face and behind his back, and abandoned his childhood best friend.

How could he reconcile the kind dwarf to the rude one?

“It appears I have miss-judged you.” That tone, from someone so in the wrong, was infuriating. The fire in Bilbo erupted. “Well, I’m glad you saw the error of your ways now, for you are the last being in all of Middle Earth I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!”

The statement was issued like a final judgment. Oppressive silence fell over them like a blanket that left no gaps.

Thorin closed is mouth, and Bilbo could feel the Prince grow more distant than ever, despite there being less than a foot between them. He seemed to notice this physical distance – for the dwarrow took a step back. The invisible wall became fortified.

“I see.” Thorin’s tone carried no emotion. Bilbo nodded, hoping he looked more resolute then he felt. The fire was gone, but there was a voice in his head screaming, ‘ _No don’t do thatwhydidyoudothatnowhynowhynowhy_ ’

He pushed it down.

Thorin gave him a nod. Then said, “Good day.” Then walked out of his life.

\--

Bilbo didn’t return to the house. The anger and the fire ebbed to numbness, and he did not want to bring the mood of the reception down. Instead, he let his feet carry him a few streets over. He’d half-hoped to find something resembling a garden, or a bench to sit in. But there was mountain on all sides. It had never felt so oppressive as it did in that moment.

Finally, he found a spare tree growing with a decent-sized trunk. Bilbo sat at the base of it. No other dwarrow were around – most were either in their homes, at work, or possibly relaxing elsewhere. Bilbo didn’t care. He’d been hoping to think, but for the first time in his own memory, his always-opinionated mind was silent. His heart felt heavy, like stone. It was miserable.

“Is this seat taken?” Bilbo jumped – the words caught him by surprise. He was losing his touch – his hearing had always been excellent. The hobbit shook his head. “No.”

“Can I sit with you?”

Bilbo looked up, and his expression must have been desolate, for the other had a look of pity.

“You’ve never had to ask.”

Ori sat with him.

When Bilbo had promised Ori he’d be his friend when they first met, that promise had not been easy to maintain. Ori felt scared and alone in an unfamiliar place. So the dwarf hardly said anything, rarely came out of his room, and had always been too timid to initiate conversation. Bilbo had changed that for him. Growing up, the shyness (though not nearly as bad as it had been) was still there. But he and Bilbo learned to be honest with each other, and that they could be as direct with the other as they wanted. Being so close in age gave them a closer relationship then being friends or brothers ever could.

But for the first time in his life, Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to be honest with Ori. Instead, he put his head on his shoulder. Ori wrapped an arm around him out of reflex.

“I guess the talk with Thorin didn’t go well?”

The directness of the question – from someone who usually tip-toed around conflict – was unexpected to Bilbo.

It made him chuckle. Then it made him laugh. And then it made him cry.

\--

In the end, he managed to tell Ori most of the conversation. His brother listened – not moving his position from keeping an arm around him at the tree – and said nothing. Usually, Bilbo was a remarkable story-teller, but he kept telling the events out of order, and repeated some of the phrasing more than once. Ori patiently helped him get the details back in order, and eventually Bilbo confessed everything. Including the part with Dwalin.

“If it’s any consolation,” Ori said after a pregnant pause, “Thorin didn’t need to do much. Balin and I found some of the dwarrow-dams that had been trying to see him. There was more than one.” Bilbo then looked up at him, and realized Ori looked just as terrible as he felt. It seemed they’d both been acting happy at the reception. “They were all so _pretty_ Bilbo. And they’re all from good families, and they have true _dwarven_ crafts. Apparently writing is an odd-one.”

“But for a hobbit-“

“I’m not a hobbit.” The words came out harshly, and Ori seemed to realize that, so he squeezed the arm around Bilbo. “I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. I’m not a hobbit. I’m a dwarf. I’m a respectable hobbit. More so then you.” They both laughed – it was a conversation they all had at dinner countless times. “But I’m not a good dwarf. Nothing here makes sense to me. None of Bofur’s family knew how to talk to me, and Bifur _couldn’t_ even talk to me because I never learned _Iglishmek_. I saw the staring as we walked. And I could hear the whispers when I was with Balin. Bilbo… I don’t know if I belong here.”

Bilbo didn’t say anything. He knew Ori didn’t want him too – just as he didn’t want Ori to talk about Thorin’s conversation, which was why he wasn’t. Ori also wasn’t done.

“I’m happy that Nori’s on a better path.” Ori said, “But I’m not sure if we have anything in common. And now, for once Dori has someone who’s going to look after him for a change. I don’t want to get in the way of that.” In lieu of a response, Bilbo nuzzled his neck. “So I’m going back with you to the Shire. I’m not sure if I’ll come back here though.”

“That could be for the best.” Bilbo said. He wasn’t leaving Erebor with fond memories. “A shame we’re going to become unmarried spinsters.” Ori chuckled. “We’ll grow old and senile.”

Bilbo gave a weak smile.

“We’d better go.” Ori said, after another moment. “They sent me to bring you back.” Bilbo sighed, and the two stood.

They faced each other. “How do I look?” Bilbo asked. Ori studied his face. “As if nothing happened.” Ori promised. Then he asked, “Me?”

His brother replied, “A perfectly respectable hobbit.”

Ori laughed. It sounded broken. It matched how Bilbo felt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Procrastinating on work that is so important to you now that will cease its relevance in a year's time? Drop a review, send a message! I reply to them - need that human-to-computer-to-human interaction.


	13. Mentioning of Weddings and Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Ori are listless, but Lobelia has direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My school paper is only 1,000 words and my outline alone put me at 600. I don’t feel like finishing it. Instead, I’m going to easily make 2,500 words to write this next chapter. The human drive to work is truly remarkable.

Chapter 13

The next few days went as a blur to Bilbo. He could remember Ori talking to his birth-brothers about his decision to return to the Shire indefinitely. Both had protested, which he expected. He hadn’t expected for them make a deal – that he return after a few months, at least to help Nori and Bofur welcome the baby. Balin’s friend from the Royal Archives would be looking around that time to fill a position. For his brothers, Ori promised he’d return for them. The distinction between the family and the job had not been lost on Balin, but the dwarf decided Ori needed some time to think his own path through.

Bungo and Belladonna knew that something had shifted with Bilbo. Their middle son tried acting as if everything were normal, but his smiles hardly reached his eyes. His conversations with others had been too cordial, and he was no longer holding late-night conversations with Ori or Frodo. But they knew that when Bilbo was ready, he would talk to them. Or maybe, they hoped. Nevertheless they told Frodo not to push too much.

It only took a week to settle back into the Shire after leaving. Everything went back to normal.

Bilbo found it terribly boring.

There was a time where he loved the day-to-day routine from home. But that love seemed to have vanished. He still kept his exercises with Ori, but it was plain that Ori was lost too.

\--

The first Sunday back, Bilbo relaxed in his chair. His eyes were closed, and he tried to absorb as much of the sun as he could. Distantly, he heard a tapping against the gate, but he ignored it. It was Sunday.

“Bilbo.” He gave a low growl.

“Lobelia, you are my favorite cousin. But you know better.”

“Bilbo look at me.” She demanded.

“Do you have a death wish?” He retorted.

“I married Azog while you were gone.”

“Very funny.”

“Not a joke.”

There was something wrong with her tone. He realized it was the fact that she was sounding completely serious. Then, her words registered. She wasn’t joking? Very slowly, he sat up and looked at her.

“You… what?”

Lobelia sighed, and glowered at him from over the fence that separated them. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“It’s _Azog_!”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “You think yourself so smart and clever. Well, this is me being smart and clever. I’m not like you, Bilbo. I don’t have parents who let me get away with doing whatever I want so I can be ‘happy’. I’m a respectable Baggins, and I want to make my parents proud. After he left, Azog talked to my parents and I, and I think we will make a good match. He’s nicer then we think.” She shifted, uncomfortably, “I’m pretty now, but I don’t have forever. And I don’t need to explain myself to you, or need your approval.” An obvious lie. “And I don’t need any more Late-Night Discussions.”

With that, she turned and walked away. Bilbo was too stunned to consider racing after her.

\--

Frodo was sick and tired of the way Ori and Bilbo were pretending their lives were normal, while they listed about.

And Lobelia was getting married, and neither were going to have a Talk about it!

So he took matters into his own hands.

It was simple enough for him to grab Ori, and pull him toward Bilbo’s room. The oldest brother was never good at resisting, especially if Frodo looked at him with the Eyes Of Innocence.

They pushed their way into Bilbo’s room, and it was a surefire sign in Frodo’s mind that this was a needed intervention because Bilbo didn’t protest nearly half as much as he did when he did not initiate a Talk.

“I have had it with you both. Sam and I agree,” He ignored the pointed eye-roll that they seemed to have whenever Sam was brought up, “You two have been moping for long enough. _Lobelia_ is marrying _Azog_. We just saw dwarrows! And you two won’t even Talk!”

Bilbo said nothing. Ori simply sat on the bed. Neither even moved for a pillow.

“I’m making the rules,” Frodo continued, and was dismayed when Bilbo didn’t even get angry. “We will first Talk about Lobelia.”

“It’s really sudden.” Ori said, “And I don’t understand why there’s a rush. It’s not like she’s pregnant.”

Bilbo speculated, “It’s her parents. They know that he’s the best, and wanted to get him before another family could. Besides, Azog himself is in a hurry, Aule knows why.”

“Do you think they’ll be happy together?” Frodo asked. The three were silent for a moment. “They don’t know each other very well.” Ori said slowly, “And that isn’t good.” He seemed distant from the conversation now. There had been no hitting with pillows or anything – this talk wasn’t going well, and Frodo regretted it now.

“Hopefully, they have a good relationship with communication and trust.” Ori finished, and laid down. Bilbo sighed.

“What happened in Erebor?” Frodo asked them.

“Dwalin and I aren’t suited for each other.” Ori explained. “He’s part of the Royal Family, and Captain of the Guard. My brother worked for the Royal Family, and I’m not a fighter.”

“Thorin despises us.” Bilbo said tonelessly.

Frodo hated seeing them so sad. “What about Dori? Balin is Dwalin’s brother, and their courting!”

“Dori belongs in Erebor, and was made to be a politician’s spouse.” Ori told him. “You would lose me in the library if you weren’t careful, and I can’t be around so many people at once.”

“I wonder if Lobelia had it right.” The two adopted sons looked at Bilbo. “She’s not marrying for love, but she’s seizing the opportunity. Wonder if I made the right choice.”

Was he talking about rejecting Azog’s proposal, or yelling at Thorin’s attempts of courting? Ori and Frodo suspected Bilbo himself wasn’t sure.

Neither had a good answer for him, anyway.

\--

No-one really entered Bilbo’s room anymore. The family knew that, given time, he would be ready to come out on his own and speak. Lobelia’s announcement had shocked the family, who could never imagine such a wild spirit settling down. IT was also unsettling because she was so much like Bilbo, that it had thrown his confidence through a loop. Only Ori saw him every day for a few moments, and Belladonna and Bungo felt safe leaving him alone. Frodo began re-doubled his efforts to staying outside, and made sure to see more and more of Samwise.

Lobelia was adjusting to her own married life, in a new Smial Azog had built for them, and promised to call upon the others when she was ready.

There were no more late-night chats. No more bantering at dinner. Things had went back to normal, but everything was so different.

Rather than send so many letters and receive so few, Ori was now receiving a new letter nearly every day. And not just from Dori anymore. Now that Nori had met him, he felt they were no longer strangers, and was writing him just as often. But for once, Ori did not feel the inclination to respond. Every letter was the same: it mentioned how their lives were going for them, and then made a point to speak of the majesty of the mountain, and all the things Ori would love if he would maybe considering moving out to stay with them because they missed him and would be please reconsider? He opened a few, and would then put them away. Some he didn’t even open. Honestly, he didn’t know what to do. A dwarrow he may have been born, but he was raised by hobbits. And Erebor had seemed so nice at first, but then it had turned so sour. Hobbits may be scoffed at for their love of armchairs, gardening, armchairs, and fires – but Ori saw the appeal and enjoyed that way of life. He didn’t know if he’d really ever belong. And how could he have made a life with Dwalin, when the dwarf was a true dwarf in every aspect and he was an awkward misfit?

Truthfully, he needed time to find himself. With permission from his parents, he took one of ponies and rode to Bree. Not traveling for speed, he allowed the journey to take a few days. The young dwarf let his feet guide him around the streets, only for him to be unconsciously led to the Prancing Pony. Giving a bark of laughter, and cursing his warped sense of humor and irony, Ori went inside.

It took him no time at all to realize Thorin was in there. He was shocked. Of all the joints in Middle Earth… But the dwarrow didn’t see him. There was a shot at escaping…

In his mission to stealthily leave, he forgot the fact that he did not possess Bilbo’s light-footedness. As he turned to leave, his foot caught on an uneven piece of flooring, and he tripped – arms flailing and all the dramatics. Of course it caught the attention of the Prince.

“Ori?” Curse his clumsiness. The younger dwarf tried to make a break for it, but Thorin caught up to him in no time at all. Ori struggled against the grip on his wrist.

“Let me go!” He snarled. He was so angry with Thorin. “I rooted for you!” That made Thorin go still. “What are you talking about?”

To think – Ori came all this way to get _away_ from the heartache, only to embrace it all at once.

“With Bilbo! When we were in Rivendell, I rooted for you! I wanted you to court and marry Bilbo! You’re perfect for each other, and he loves you so much, and you hurt him so bad, and everything’s awful and we’re all upset.”

It was established earlier that the future King Under the Mountain had a weakness for distraught children. Now it seemed this weakness expanded to Ori. Thorin didn’t bother trying to get an explanation at that moment, but carefully (as if the eldest Baggins were a scared foal) led him back into the inn into his own room. To any passerby, it appeared quite an amusing display – or it would have been if Ori weren’t crying. They were left alone.

Instead, the two finally got a chance to talk to each other.

“I don’t know what I did, or what my parents did to offend you.” Ori said after he calmed down. Adrenaline was running throughout his body, which egged his conversation on.

Thorin shifted. “When I walked in that room for dinner those months ago, I saw my cousin embarrassingly besotted with a dwarf I didn’t know. I recognized Dori, from when he worked for my sister.”

Ori’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “You didn’t know?” His head shook.

With a heavy sigh, Thorin explained, “You… about your middle brother, right?” Ori gave a nod. “I know why Dori had to leave me.” Ori said quickly.

“Well, he was employed by my sister, Lady Dis. I recognized him the first night, but I didn’t know about you until that dinner. I saw you barely respond to my cousin, and I interpreted it as disinterest. Also, I couldn’t help but notice the way your adopted mother steered the conversation. But,” and he now looked regretful, “Your brother, and Balin informed me rather _sternly_ that it wasn’t from lack of interest on your part.”

Balin informed him?

“I’m sorry.” Thorin said to him. “I realize I judged you unfairly, and in my arrogance I didn’t give myself a chance to know you. Too many have tried to ensnare my cousins for their wealth or prestige that it makes me protective of them. But I thought back on it, and Balin told me more about you. I wrote to Dwalin that I was wrong, but the Iron Hills are giving us more trouble than I expected.”

Ori was speechless. The adrenaline was ebbing away, and this time he looked down.

“It’s not my place, but consider moving back into the Mountain.” Thorin said, “Having moved from place to place, I understand that it is unsettling. But Dwalin cares about you, and you have fellow dwarrows that would help you settle in.”

“You don’t want to hear this, but I can’t leave Bilbo behind.” Ori confessed. “I guess I always knew that I’d have to go, but it’s so scary. And, like I said, I can’t leave Bilbo. He’s my oldest friend, and he’s so sad.”

Thorin didn’t react to what he said.

“I… have something for him.” Ori raised his eyebrows. “It’s not much,” Thorin elaborated, “But when we last spoke, he said some things to me – some was deserved, some of it was not. I wrote this letter to clarify those things. I was going to mail it today, but, since you’re here…?”

“I’ll take it,” Ori agreed.

Thorin passed the thick envelope to him.

“Dwalin should write to you soon, if this mess rolls over.” Thorin promised. “But he’ll be back in time when you’re supposed to attend to your brother.”

“How do you know so much?” Ori asked, “I thought my family was beneath this status.”

“Balin and I have spent much time together.” Thorin said, “My Grandfather is soon stepping down. And Dori stays with Balin. And Dori frets about the two of you, and Bofur now.”

Ori gave a thin smile. “I’ll make sure Bilbo gets the letter.”

Thorin gave him a nod. “Thank you. May I ask you something?”

“You have.” Ori expressed innocently.

A rather un-regal snort followed. “Why are you so civil to me?”

It took Ori a moment before answering. “Well, for one, you’re the future King, and I can’t really be mad at a ruling figure in a monarchy. Second, your Dwalin’s cousin, and as dear to him as Bilbo is to me, so protectiveness is to be expected and appreciated, though it made my life harder. Third,” He looked up, “Bilbo already gave you quite the tongue-lashing. It makes me madder to think of your falling out with him, but I already yelled at you for it. And I can’t really stay too mad for long.”

“It makes you a better dwarf then I.” Thorin responded. Ori blushed.

“I had been on my way to Ered Luin, for my grandfather. I’m glad our paths crossed here.”

Diplomatically, Ori nodded. He eyed the letter. He was glad to make his case to Thorin and vice-versa, but he wasn’t sure if this would do much good for Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're beginning to enter the home stretch. Two chapters to go, and then one epilogue. Honestly, I really only have one chapter to go, because the next one I have set for tomorrow, and the epilogue is done. I've already begun writing Ori's sequel, which doesn't have a title yet. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Curious about the broadway shows I'm going to see this weekend? (Rocky Horror and Chicago!) Drop a comment. I like to reply. Always in the market for friends.


	14. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter from Thorin to Bilbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very determined that this be its own chapter. Throughout writing this story, I was determined that there never be a third-person narrative from Thorin's point of few. This is for several reasons. The first is that he, like Mr. Darcy, is an enigma until this letter which explains his actions. The second is that I am terrified of writing him. That is fading away, but I'm not sure how I'll be able to write him in a serious fashion. Thankfully, the sequels are comedic in nature.

When he got back, Ori set the pony aside, and came back into Bag End. The first thing he did was pad silently to Bilbo’s room, and place the envelope on his dresser. His brother was asleep – it was the middle of the night.

The next morning, Bilbo woke to find something unfamiliar on his dresser. Upon inspection, he almost threw it. A _letter_? From _Thorin_? Why-how-when? What gave that dwarf the right? Curse him! He should ignore it completely.

Bilbo couldn’t open it fast enough.

Then he read.

_Dear Bilbo,_

_I do not know if this letter will reach you. After it is completed, I send it to your home, and I trust your family the most when the subject is your well-being. Though, your parents or Ori may decide to discard the letter for that reason. If that is the case, I would not outright blame them._

_When we last spoke, you mentioned several things about my character. I realize, that out of context, these characterizations speak rather poor of me indeed. With this letter, I would like to take the chance to answer to your claims, and provide you with information I am used to keeping private._

_In regards to Ori and Dwalin, I will admit to wrongdoing. Where you are protective over Ori, I myself am protective of Dwalin. When I first met your family, I was thrown off by how you and your mother kept speaking for and over Ori at times. I believed that you were forcing him to show an interest in my friend for the sake of his finances and connections, so Ori could more easily re-enter society. My theory was furthered when you claimed you “Wanted what was best” and, as far as career prospects go, you freely admitted to being dependent on “what Balin could arrange.” Now, I realize that you and your mother were only helping your brother with his self-confidence. It did not occur to me that the young dwarf may just simply be incredibly shy. My only experience with dwarrows so young are my nephews, and I am sure you can remember how certainly not-shy they are. For this, I will ask both you and him for my forgiveness in my poor judgment – I, again, am unused to a dwarf being so shy, but Ori is no usual dwarf. I have attached a separate letter for him for a more complete apology, but I can assure you I will do what I can to write the wrong I inflicted upon your brother. Allow me to move on._

_It is important that I take the time to address my history with Smaug. This, I should have told you sooner, and I will freely admit to that. For he lied in much of his tale to you. He was correct in the fact that I was raised with him, and his family was in the employment of mine for many years. I had every intention of being his dear friend, but he began pursuing my brother, Frerin, with a strong intent. Frerin is several years younger than Frodo. Dis was against the budding relationship, while I had faith in my friend. As a test of character, Dis told him that he would have no access to Frerin’s inheritance._

_He left that night._

_The status of your family is of no concern to me. When I first met you, I was infatuated. You are unlike any other I have ever met. There is an ease I can achieve when I am with you that I have not been able to replicate with anyone else. But at the time, I was under the impression that I did not have the freedom to marry whomever I wished, and could not think of intent to court the way Dwalin and Balin did. Even at the time, I regretted. My first impression of you was that you were lovely, and a lively conversationalist. You possess an astute judge of character (I will let Smaug slide, as you did not have enough information, which I accept the blame for that), and I am told you are rather quick with riddles._

_I know that you hold me in ill-regard. But I cannot lie and say that my feelings have changed. Still, I find myself very fond of you, and regret that we will have no future._

_Yours,_

_Thorin_

Bilbo cried.

Now he knew. He didn’t regret saying no to Azog, not by any stretch of the imagination.

It was Thorin.

The hobbit knew.

He was in love with Thorin. But the things he _said_ … the way he _acted_ …

It was too late. Bilbo had ruined everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter. I promise this will end happily. We can get through this together. 
> 
> Comments? Questions? Advice? Very passionate about a particular pizza topping? Drop a comment! I respond to them - it fills the missing hole where social interaction goes.


	15. An Afternoon in Dale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Bilbo and Ori are going to grow old an unmarried, they may as well see the world before resigning themselves to their respective fates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more free-form in a way the other chapters were not. Probably because we have reached the point that everyone waits for in a Pride and Prejudice story – aka the resolution. The excitement I’m experiencing for this chapter in particular is one I haven’t felt since I first wrote this story. Truly, this is the last chapter I’ve written, because I wrote the epilogue during the heart-breaking bits (because I wanted to remind myself where the road was headed). It’s been a pleasure for me to write this, and I hope it was a pleasure for you to read it. Like I said in the prologue, this is the first time I’ve posted a fanfiction in well-over five years, and it is certainly the longest story I’ve ever posted.

Chapter 15

Bilbo didn’t tell Ori what was in the letter, but based on his own conversation with the Prince, he could only guess it had been redeeming. His little brother was even more desolate then before.

It was such a change from their usual dynamic. Ori was always the shy and timid one, and Bilbo could always be trusted on to bring him out of his shell. Now Bilbo was miserable, and it fell on Ori to do the same. At first he didn’t know how to handle this. Then he thought, _What would Bilbo do_?

Well, Bilbo would do the unexpected. And if Bilbo could, then so could he.

\--

“Wake up. Wake up. Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup-“

“I am going to _kill_ you.”

Ori didn’t seem to take his threat seriously. Bilbo disliked him intensely at that moment.

“We’re leaving Bag End today.” The darrow informed him.

“I don’t feel like it.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” His snot of an older brother said cheerfully, “At what point did I say, “If it would please his highness?”

As far as the mission to ‘Get Bilbo Back To Normal,’ the thwump of the pillow against his skull should be considered a step in the right direction. The hobbit then sighed and pushed Ori out of the room so he could get ready for whatever scheme he’d cooked up. They were most likely going to wander about the path and then come back, which would be rather nice then their normal routine.

After a few more moments, Bilbo was finally dressed and presentable. He followed Ori out of the room, and to his surprise, the front porch. His parents were there, with two ponies.

“Have fun lads.” Bungo said, and Belladonna hugged them both. Confused, Bilbo returned the hugs (mostly out of reflex) and faced Ori.

“Where are we going?” Bilbo asked. The dwarf beamed at him.

“If we’re going to grow into old maids together, we should see the world before we burden Frodo with our miserable selves.” He said cheerfully. Bungo rolled his eyes at the dramatics. Belladonna didn’t remember a time when she was more proud. “We’re going to go on an adventure Mr. Baggins, like Mama Belladonna did.”

Bilbo spluttered at him. There were a million reasons to say no. Neither were prepared, it was all too sudden. But then, what else would they be doing? He glanced around. Lobelia was still settling in her new life. Frodo was enjoying his time with his younger cousins and friends. Ori and he were the only two not moving forward with their lives since the commotion of Dori’s letter. Maybe this could work.

The hobbit smiled at the dwarf. “Well then, where shall we start?” 

\--

It hadn’t taken nearly as much convincing, bribing, or threatening as Ori thought it would. He felt bad having to tell Nori he hadn’t needed to use any of the skills. Finally, he couldn’t bare not replying to his brother’s letters, and he began to write them both back. His responses hadn’t been very long, but he didn’t try to hide what he felt from them. At the very least, they deserved to know why he wasn’t in a hurry to move. It surprised him with how supportive they were – and it was probably their letters that convinced him going on an adventure could be a good idea.

It had started with Nori.

_You probably haven’t seen much beyond the Shire,_ he had written _, Dori tells me it beautiful, and I’m sure he’s right. But the rest of the world isn’t as pretty as Hobbiton. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to stay, but try and see the world before you close yourself off. Explore caves, get lost, find something new. From what Balin and Dori told me, you’re the smart one in the family, and you could be someone important if you believed in yourself more. I’m sorry about the things I did, and that I caused us to be separated. Dori lost his heart when he gave you away, and I lost my baby brother. I thought when you came for the wedding, everything would go back to the way is was before, but there never was a way the three of us had. I didn’t realize it until I saw the way you looked at my hair. But maybe one day, I can see you or you can see me, and we can have a real relationship._

The water-marks indicated his brother had cried while writing it. Ori cried while reading it.

But what really shocked him was a letter he had received from Dori a week later, all but saying the same thing. That he should take the chance while he was still young and unattached to explore Middle Earth. If both of them – two very different dwarrows – could tell him he was capable of such a thing, well, maybe he was.

And Bilbo needed the change, the chance to do this. Ori decided he could be braver for his best friend.

It also took his mind off of Dwalin.

Not really.

Thorin had sent him a letter (something he wasn’t sure whether or not to tell Bilbo) as a follow-up to their conversation. Apparently, there was something of a disaster occurring in the Iron Hills, and Frerin was unable to move, and Dwalin had to stay to protect the Prince. _It’s not that he is avoiding you_ , Thorin had reassured (at several different points in the message), _But he’s a bit preoccupied. I will make sure he writes to you the instant he gets back_.

Ori had snorted. Thorin seemed to be many things. Stubborn seemed the most apt.

Before leaving, Ori had written him back;

_You should concern yourself more with whatever seems to be happening in the Iron Hills. I will be fine – I won’t be anywhere near Hobbiton for a while anyway._

Maybe not as elaborate as what he could do, but with Thorin he enjoyed a certain amount of directness, and vice versa.

And here he was, with Bilbo, set out to go anywhere.

The two mounted their ponies, and headed onto the road and to the great wide somewhere. After a moment, Bilbo repeated his earlier question. Ori decided to turn it back to him.

“Anywhere _you’d_ like to go?” Ori asked.

“You mean you _didn’t_ plan anything?” Bilbo was shocked.

The dwarf shrugged. “I wanted us to get up and about. We were dragging the mood down. Didn’t really care where we went.”

There was a moment where Bilbo thought it over. They were in no rush to be anywhere. His eyes lingered on the road, and then he looked up at Ori. “Let’s go everywhere.”

Ori laughed.

It was the first real laugh he’d had since before Erebor.

\--

Unfortunately for Ori, Rivendell was the first stop, because it was the only place Bilbo really knew of other then Bree, and he wanted to leave the Shire and _not to go Bree_. Lord Elrond was very nice to them, and the library was nice, but… _elves_.

“Maybe you’re a dwarf yet” Bilbo has perused that night, and Ori slapped him with his pillow.

After spending a few days, the desire to get back to the road took over, and the elder brother got to pick second. He chose Ered Luin. Ori had been nervous, but he wanted to see the town he was born in. They didn’t linger for too long – hardly any dwarrows were there since the mines had dried up – but they paced through the streets. Neither of them spoke with any of the dwarrows there, and if they mostly kept to themselves. If it seemed odd to find a dwarf and a hobbit together, they never caught wind of any whispers. Ori let Bilbo to where he could remember living with Dori and Nori, and repeated what he knew about his life, the one he could recall without Mama Belladonna’s stories.

“I was upset to leave home.” Ori told him. It was there last day in the mines – being away from direct sunlight wasn’t doing Bilbo any favors, even if it was for a while. “Mom had died a while ago, and Nori was never there, but if I sat in a particular chair, or closed my eyes tight enough, I remembered her singing or him laughing. I didn’t have that in this new scary place I found myself in, where everything was smaller then what I knew.” Usually, Bilbo would hit him for that comment, but this was serious. “Then I met a really nice boy who promised to be my best friend. And then I got a new mother and a father. And Bag End became a home of sorts. But I felt like it was betrayel to Dori to call a place without him home.

“And now I think I realize, it’s not about where the home is. It’s who it’s with.” Bilbo scooted closer to him. “The problem is, I have brothers as far apart as can be. And I’m not sure where home should be.”

“Who says it has to be anywhere?” Bilbo asked quietly. “Maybe you and I can just wander around.”

“Not forever.” Ori disagreed. “But for now, this is nice.”

Bilbo leaned back.

“The letter you gave me.” He said, looking off into the distance. “Thorin loved me.” Bilbo didn’t repeat the contents word for word, but he summarized it. He then removed it from his coat and passed it to him. “I look at it every now and then.”

For a moment, Ori said nothing. “He’s been trying to make good on his promise to me.” He said.

“How could I be so wrong? I’d assumed he was a no-good, spoilt, arrogant arse. Never have I been so wrong.”

“Love makes fools of us all.”

“Don’t be cliché.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Ori was indignant. “But am I wrong?”

Bilbo didn’t say anything.

\--

They didn’t talk about the letter again, and it was time to set off. With every stop they made, Ori wrote two letters – one to be sent to Dori (for him and Nori) and the other to go to Frodo (for him, Mama Belladonna, and Father). The letters contained their location, where they’d been, and if they knew where there next stop would be. Before they’d left Ered Luin, a letter had made it’s way to Ori from Nori.

The writer read its contents the morning of their final day. “Nori wants us to visit Laketown, and meet him and Bofur at Dale.”

Bilbo shrugged. “Well, neither of us had anywhere else to be.”

“Bilbo, those towns directly border Erebor.”

That caused the hobbit to stop eating.

“But we won’t actually… be in Erebor?”

Ori shook his head, eyeing the letter.

“They promised we’d stay in Dale, and go nowhere else with them.”

“And they can’t go farther out?”

“Traveling to Dale is pushing it for Bofur at this point.”

That was true. At the wedding, it hadn’t been pronounced, but even a hobbit could have noticed his pregnancy from sight alone.

Bilbo acquiesced. “Well, I guess we have some traveling to do.”

\--

Before meeting Ori’s brother and brother-in-law, Bilbo decided to catch up on his weekly ritual of smoking on his front porch. Only, there was no pipe or porch. Instead, the middle Baggins child made due with one of the many docks in Dale. He enjoyed looking about the wide expanse of water, and then leaned back to lie flat against the wood. He looked out at the clouds, and then closed his eyes. The sound of the water was soothing.

This meant he didn’t see the figure swimming in his direction.

Granted, the figure also didn’t see the hobbit on the dock. His legs were too small, and in laying down he appeared near invisible.

So here it was – a figure, swimming in the lake, and Bilbo, unsuspecting on the dock.

The figure spotted the dock, and figured it was as good of a place as any to climb to shore. It then grabbed hold of the ladder, and slowly climbed. Bilbo growled. Why did it have to be so difficult to enjoy a nice morning of quiet? All he was aware of was the fact that a being with all the grace and propriety of a drunken tavern song was making its way far too close to his vicinity for his comfort. It was awful.

“Bilbo?”

It got worse.

His heart stopped.

“Thorin?” He shot forward, and couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t fair. Dale was close to Erebor, but it was far. _Thorin wasn’t supposed to be here_. It was not part of the plan.

And he was soaking wet.

“Hello.” The prince was just as shocked to see Bilbo, yet still somehow managed to sound put-together and professional even though _he was soaking wet_. “How are you?”

“I’m well.”

“Good. That’s good. Your parents?”

“They’re well also, thank you for asking.”

“And you’re brothers?

“They’re good. Ori and I came here together. Frodo’s taken up running.”

“That’s good for a youth his age.”

“Yes.”

They were quiet for a moment. The water off of Thorin’s clothing dripped loudly onto the planks of the dock.

“How’s Dis? Your nephews?”

“Dis is well, my nephews are good.”

“That’s good.”

The silence was the stuff of anxiety. The water droplets were more lively then the conversation.

“Well, this was nice!” Bilbo half said, half yelled. He felt panicked. Thorin was still wet, and part of his chest was visible from his shirt.

Thorin nodded at him. “Yes.” _His_ voice didn’t sound like a nervous baby chick. Soaking wet, and he still seemed every bit as majestic as Bilbo remembered.

“Good day.” Bilbo said quickly, and walked until he turned a corner, then ran as if being chased by wargs.  

\--

“Ori! Ori we have to go right now!” The sheer terror and desperation in Bilbo’s voice made Ori panic from sound alone.  “What’s going on?”

“Thorin’s here!”

“Here! In Dale! We must go now!”

Ori took a deep breath. He needed to be the smart one here. “Bilbo, Nori and Bofur are meeting us here, we can’t leave now.”

He then grabbed Bilbo’s shoulders, and looked him in the eye. “Calm down.”

Bilbo felt like hyperventilating, and shook his head. “Did he talk to you?” Ori continued. Bilbo nodded. “What about?”

A few deep breaths later, and Bilbo began to feel better. Maybe not completely better, but certainly no-where near having a panic attack.

“He asked how my family was, and I asked him the same. Ori… it was so awkward.” Now he felt like crying. “He was a perfect gentleman, and I ruined it!”

Ori sighed and pulled him into a hug. Bilbo tried to pull away, but his grip was too good. It reminded him of Dori.

“It’s a good thing that you two talked. Maybe you can tell him how you feel?”

“I can’t! I don’t know where he is right now. Maybe he left already! And I ruined everything – how could he ever want to see me again?”

“Because you’re you.” Bilbo paused for a moment to truly look at his older brother. Ori looked absolutely resolute in his gaze, and his tone brokered no argument. Bilbo took a moment to appreciate this.

“Traveling like this was good for you.” He said to him. “You seem almost confident.”

“Perish the thought.” The dwarf deadpanned, and Bilbo laughed. Ori forced Bilbo to sit next to him. Ori had been enjoying a lovely pot of jasmine tea at a shop Dori and Balin had recommended in a ‘ _completely_ _separate’_ letter from Nori’s invitation to Dale (and it was sad that they were just _so painfully obvious._ Wasn’t Nori supposed to be a former thief?) when Bilbo ran into him.

“We’re going to sit here, and you’re going to drink the lovely tea that my older brother told me about. And we’re going to wait for Nori and Bofur to get here. Bofur was upset he didn’t get to finish the dragon story to you. He bet he could make you faint.

Bilbo settled into a seat, and took the offered cup. Upon hearing Bofur’s wager, he scoffed. “Hardly.”

\--

“Ori! Bilbo!” Both brothers looked up and spotted Nori’s outrageously decorated hair in the entrance.

Last time they met, Ori hadn’t know what to expect from the middle Ri brother, and he had been uncomfortable. But now they had exchanged letters, and they knew each other.

“Nori!” Ori and Bilbo both got up to greet the couple that walked through. Bofur had gotten much larger since they’d last seen each other, and was quite visibly showing. The smiling dwarf made a show of forcing the other two to be careful about hugging him, and it helped lighten the mood.

“Let’s sit.” Bofur said, “Before my brother catches wind that I stood for longer than ten minutes.”

He led them to a new table in the corner, away from the rest of the people. Bilbo approved – it gave them privacy to talk amongst themselves. Bofur sat with his back to the crowds (probably to subconsciously protect his stomach) and Nori sat next to him. Ori had lingered to give him an extra hug, which put Bilbo in the position of sitting in the corner, and Ori sat next to him.

It was nice to see them both after such a long time. Really, it was nice to see family other than his brother. Bilbo would feel bad, but Ori really felt the same.

Ori enjoyed telling a few of their stories traveling along the road. They were fascinated with hearing about the skin changer they ran into, and roared with laughter when he explained, in great detail that made Bilbo _despise_ the evil dwarf, about the nickname he’d given the hobbit.  

Mirkwood had been a challenge, and King Thranduil had not been nearly as nice as Elrond in finding two travelers at his doorstep. It had taken them entirely too long to convince the paranoid king that they’d simply gotten lost, and he’d sent his son as an “escort” to make sure they quickly and promptly left the forest.

“But Legolas was very kind!” Bilbo insisted. Ori shrugged. “Elf.”

Bofur and Nori nodded in agreement.

They newly married couple told them about a few of their stories, mostly about how Nori was getting to look into a new method of employment (his explanation had been very shady, but it seemed to be more enjoyable to him) and Bofur said he’d be opening a shop after the baby came.

“It’s not a good idea to return to the mines, for at least a while.” He explained. “Bombur and I were talking about a toy shop long before I met this troublemaker anyhow.” Nori mock-spluttered as Ori smiled.

“How long do you suppose you’re remaining here?” Bilbo asked.

“Not for too long.” Bofur answered. He and Nori exchanged a glance, which confused Ori and Bilbo. They then turned back to them.

“Alright.” Nori seemed nervous. “I know we promised not to take you too Erebor, and we’re not going to. But we brought someone with us.”

“We’re sorry for not telling you the full truth.” Bofur said, reaching out to grab Ori’s hand. “But we didn’t think you’d come otherwise.”

Ori said nothing, but realized Bofur’s hold on him was more firm then it was reassuring. Also, he realized that it was no accident that they had been led to a corner table, and took seats closer to the door, keeping Bilbo in the corner-most seat. It was a trap.

Nori got up, and walked to the door.

“Seems like a lot of trouble for Dori to visit.” Ori said in a hollow tone. Because he knew they wouldn’t have gone to this trouble for Dori.

No. Nori was now leading Dwalin into the restaurant.

Now it was a good thing that Bofur had his hand where it was, because Ori’s instinct was to bolt and escape. And Bilbo being boxed in preventing his brother from helping.

Dwalin was now at their table, and Ori was looking at him for the first time in months.

“Hello Ori.” Oh sweet Valar – that voice!

In that moment, Ori detested his shyness like never before, because of the pathetic way he answered, in his quiet voice, “Hello Dwalin.”

“Would you take a walk with me?” The warrior’s voice was low and rough, but Bilbo could sense a nervousness in it. “I would like to explain myself to you.”

Ori felt faint. But why should he feel weak? He had just taken a hobbit (yes he was half Took but he was also half _Baggins_ ) on an _adventure_ , dealt with _elves_ , skin changers, and traveling the road on his own. Firmly, he stood and said yes.  

Dwalin took his arm and led him away. To his credit, Ori didn’t look back at them.

“Was that your plan?” Bilbo finally asked when they left.

Nori didn’t answer for a few moments. His fingers made an odd-tapping rhythm on the table (“He used to fiddle with his knife, but our relatives would kill him for doing that around me know” Bofur had said). “You know my history with ‘im, right?”

Bilbo nodded.

“I wasn’t happy when Dori told me they got sweet on each other. And I don’t trust the Durin folk. And after what they did with Dori, I hated them. But…” here he squeezed Bofur’s hand, “It’s different. I’m different. And Dori’s happy now. And accordin’ to him and your mother, Ori never let anyone outside the family affect him like that. So if I can do something _good_ for this family for a change, I’ll do it.”

“You exchange letters with Mother?” Bilbo cried.

Nori glared at him. “I pour my heart to you and that’s what you take away?”

Bofur rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t pouring your heart out.”

“Oi! You’re s’posed to take my side on everything. I wrote a contract that says so!”

“No, you signed a ‘contract’ that stuck you with me as I am.” Bofur shot back confidently. “Terrible sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry in the least.

“My apologies,” Bilbo said, “that is very sweet of you to do for him.”

“Not just him laddie.” Nori gave a grin that reminded Bilbo far too much of Ori whenever he helped Frodo prank Lobelia, or the time when Ori hid all of Father’s brass buttons in what had been a truly ingeniously epic prank. It was the look of someone who had done something they shouldn’t, but couldn’t for the life of them regret it.

Bilbo’s face lost the blood in it. “No.”

“Yes.” In a motion a pregnant dwarf should not have been capable of, Bofur moved to sit next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Bilbo was trapped.

“I will scream.” The hobbit threatened, and he hated them both in that moment for laughing.

“You’re adorable!” Bofur exclaimed. “Nori can we keep him?”

“Don’t see why not.” Nori replied. The look Bilbo gave him in response had him doubling over. _If looks could kill…_

 Even with the forewarning, Bilbo’s heart felt like stopping when Thorin walked in. “That’s our cue to leave this time.” Bofur said, and squeezed the hobbit. “Good luck.”

Nori gave Thorin a stiff nod, and the Prince returned it in kind, though his had a majestic aura to it that was entirely too unfair for someone who had been dripping wet earlier to have. It was also completely unfair that he was completely dry and in new clothes, still looking pristine.

At least that’s what Bilbo thought.

“I am sorry about earlier.” Thorin said, sitting down. Bilbo was grateful he had elected to speak first, because his tongue had become a useless lump in his mouth.

“Sometimes, I take a swim to relax. And I was nervous about talking to you, that it left me unprepared to, well, talk to you.” He took a breath. “Which leads me to apologizing to you again, for I knew that you and Ori were here. But seeing you there was another thing entirely.”

Bilbo knew he needed to say something, say anything, say _everything_ ; about how sorry he was, about how Thorin had nothing to be sorry about, but he _couldn’t make his damn mouth work_.

“Bilbo?”

“I’m sorry!” since their last conversation – not the one on the lake, the one in the Mountain, after the wedding where he ruined everything – there had been a dam between them. He could feel it breaking by the tone in his voice.

“I’m sorry. For everything I said to you. I’m sorry that I implied you were lesser then that foul dwarf Smaug, I’m sorry I put Ori’s misery on you and didn’t give you chance to right it, I’m sorry that I judged you to be an _arrogant louse_ when I first met you, and I’m so _so_ sorry I ruined everything.” Thorin looked like he wanted to speak, but he _couldn’t_ speak, because Bilbo _couldn’t_ _stop_ he had to _keep_ talking until he said his piece because even though his heart was shattering it felt _so good_ just to finally _say_ everything to him, “Because I embarrassed myself, and you. I told you I never wanted to marry you but that was a _lie_ , because I’ve never been more in love with you and I’m so sorry I lied and the last thing you deserve is to have to deal with my ridiculousness!”

It was in that moment, to Bilbo’s absolute horror, that he realized people were openly staring at them. How long had they been there? How long had they been watching?

But that wasn’t the worst part. Dale was right by Erebor, and these people _knew_ who the Heir to the Mountain was. He was embarrassing Thorin openly now.

“Bilbo-“

“I’m sorry. I’m causing a scene.” The hobbit whispered. He quickly stood, and darted out of the restaurant.

He couldn’t see through his own tears, and desperately wove his way through the large people, gladly letting the crowd swallow him whole. At least, he thought he’d been lost until a strong pair of arms gripped his shoulders. He was then half carried, half dragged for a few minutes until there was a tad more room on a less-busy street.

“Will we ever have a conversation where I can speak to you?” Thorin snapped. He looked down at Bilbo’s face, saw the tears, and looked regretful for being angry. Instead, he pulled Bilbo into a hug, and did not let go.

“I want you to listen, and I’m going to keep you _right here_ so you do. I know you thought me to be an arrogant prick when I first met you. And you know what? You were absolutely right. I was terrible. You were entirely too nice to me, and I didn’t deserve it. Second, it was my fault Ori’s heart got broken, so I deserved that anger. But I think by now he’s forgiven me, so I hope you have too. Third, well, I’m glad you see reason about Smaug.” Bilbo made a sound that was halfway between a sob and laugh against his shoulder.

Thorin continued, “You haven’t ruined everything. That’s ridiculous. It’s perfectly alright to be embarrassed. We were both right and wrong about different events. But that can’t mean we can’t spend the rest of our lives taking turns being right and wrong. And if I heard you correctly just now, you said that you loved me. Did I?”

Bilbo’s voice sounded small, muffled against the largest dwarf, but he answered, “I did.”

“Good. That makes me feel better about this. If I let go, will you promise not to run?”

“I promise.”

It took Thorin a moment, probably doubting whether he could trust the Hobbit, but he let go. Then he knelt on one knee, and for the first time in their relationship he had to look up – very slightly up but still up – at Bilbo.

“I’d like the chance to court you. You’re smart, resolute, and stern. You love your family, and you don’t let them see harm. I haven’t met anyone else who captivates me the way you do, and I would like to spend the rest of my life seeing you befuddle everyone else.”

Somewhere between making a half-laughing noise, Bilbo found the words to respond in a normal fashion. Tears were still there, but for the first time since leaving the mountain, he no longer felt sad. “Every time we talk,” he said, “you say something, or you do something that surprises me. And it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Yes. Of course I accept.”

Thorin gave an uncharacteristic laugh. He didn’t bother to properly stand, just pulled Bilbo into his arms.

And that was how they had their first kiss.

-End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to follow. 
> 
> Questions? Comments? Advice? Just as happy to see this end as I am? Did I ruin a classic? Leave a comment. I don’t need to get out more – I just need more internet friends.


	16. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have reached the end of the road. At least until I will re-appear, to gift you with an entirely unnecessary fusion of Ori's wedding with a classic film. My undying devotion to any who can guess the movie.

Epilogue

Things didn’t really change, except for where they completely did.

When Bilbo met up with Ori later that day, it was to meet a dwarf that had officially accepted a suit, and would being the Year-long courting process. That was when Bilbo learned that in order for Dwalin and Ori to court properly, Ori would need to formally move into Erebor. “It’s not perfmanent, but Dwalin’s work is there. And maybe it’s time to be a dwarf for a while.”

“You’ll need an official chaperone.” Thorin had said (because Bilbo was literally not letting him go now that he had him, and they were holding hands when Ori delivered his news) “Your brother’s are too busy to chaperone you the way you’re supposed to be. I happen to know of a hobbit you should consider.” Ori had laughed.

While he had always stood out in the most obvious way in Bag End, and it had always been Well Known that he wouldn’t stay there forever, seemingly every hobbit in the Shire came by Bag End to bid the dwarf farewell. Ori had gifts for most of the relatives – there hadn’t been much for him to take with him. Balin and Dori had come to escort him back (probably because Balin wanted, very much so, to see the Shire again).

Bungo and Belladonna had always known this day would come, but it didn’t stop the tears when their oldest son said good-bye to officially move out. It also didn’t help matters that Bilbo was leaving as well.

After his talk with Thorin, they decided to hold off on beginning the official courting process until a little time after Bilbo moved into the mountain with Ori. “It could give us the chance to date with no miscommunication.” Thorin had said, “Imagine that.” Bilbo laughed himself silly.

Before Bilbo mounted his pony to follow the other three, he turned to see Lobelia standing there. Without thinking, he ran to her and they embraced before he left. He saw her once since she married Azog. She’d promised him that she was happy, and Bilbo considered that, eventually, she’d be telling the truth. “I’m proud of you.” She whispered in his ear. “I don’t need your approval.” He replied.

They didn’t let go for a whole ten minutes.

Frodo stayed in Bag End, because “It’s not like I have a dwarf ready to marry me.” That had been said teasingly, but the two elders still hit him with pillows enough times to last them through all the years of missed Late Night Conversations. The two brothers didn’t like the idea of leaving him, but Bungo and Belladonna would be able to look after him. And Lobelia swore to them she’d check up on him in frequency. “I also have Sam,” Frodo added, but Ori and Bilbo rolled their eyes at that.  

As it turned out Balin helped arrange for Ori to work in the library, a job that he loved doing. It was more difficult to find a well-suited job for Bilbo, but Thorin soon found out that the hobbit proved invaluable when it came to understanding planting and harvesting. Bilbo quickly found himself appointed to the Chief Assistant to the Director of Agriculture within a week of arriving at Erebor.

Ori and Dwalin began to formally court almost hours after they arrived in the Mountain. It turned out that having a small child _did_ end up taking time from Nori’s responsibilities as chaperone, and Dori had a wedding to plan (it was acceptable for slightly older dwarrow to end a courting earlier than a year, and Balin and Dori needed to follow a Fundin custom and marry before Dwalin did).

What had started as a joke from Thorin soon became serious – Bilbo was surprised to find himself actually needing to supervise his older brother whenever the dwarf was anywhere near Dwalin. It made for nice conversations with Balin, until the wedding date got closer and he was required to play a more active role in planning it. Then he found himself speaking with Thorin, who filled in as Dwalin’s chaperone.

Supervising Ori gave Bilbo and Thorin a chance to actually date. While they tried to focus on watching the other couple, Ori and Dwalin found it funny (the evil sods) to pretend that they were the wise, mature couple who needed to look after Thorin and Bilbo (“ _I am the future king of the Mountain Ori, do not sing about my kissing Mr. Baggins in a tree!”_ Thorin had hissed one wonderful afternoon).

With Thorin, Bilbo found that he had someone in which he could laugh, communicate, debate, and relax in silence with. Every time they had a moment alone, the prince found a new way to surprise him, and Bilbo knew that while Erebor was drastically different from the life he thought he’d live in Hobbiton, he’d made the right decision in moving. 

Ori and Dwalin announced their engagement a proper one year after they began courting, to the immense delight of Dori. “Least one of us can do this right.” Nori had said, jokingly. Bilbo knew the only reason he got away with the comment without being beaten was because he was holding the baby. Then Bilbo took the lad, named Bori (children carried a mix of both parents in the name) and pretended to look the other way when Dori started to smack at the middle brother.

And of course, Bilbo and Ori still continue to hold frequent late night talks, taking respective turns on whose quarters they use. Thorin and Dwalin take it in great stride, and amuse themselves by purposely staying in the rooms their loves’ plan on using, and forcing the other two to kick them out when the time comes to have said conversation. They always leave, but not after being asked first kindly, next normally, and lastly, after one of them (usually Bilbo) has had it with their pretend ignorance, will push them out forcibly.

Frodo comes to the Lonely Mountain every midsummer to early spring. Thorin believes Frodo should stay in one place to find a suitable partner, for at least a few years (“ _How will someone prove themselves worthy of him when he keeps traveling back and forth?”),_ which of course is a thinly veiled desire for the youngest brother to stay in Erebor, and marry a nice dwarf (“ _Dain has a nice young lad his age_ ,” Thorin will always muse in an obtuse way that absolutely everyone can see through.) Neither Ori nor Bilbo had the heart to tell him, but finally Bilbo had to explain that if Frodo did that, they would never see the youngest Baggins again. Thorin was distraught that his other favorite hobbit would do something so respectable as to love and marry another hobbit in the Shire (“ _And his neighbor no less_!”). Belladonna agreed with him.

Yet while everyone had more or less settled into their homes and respective partners, that did not mean that life was by any means “settled.” Far from it.

After all, there was a wedding to plan between Ori and Dwalin. 

\--Epilogue Pt. 2-- 

Bilbo wasn’t sure when Thorin had come back. Under normal circumstances, he could always tell when his intended entered or left a room. The Dwarrow had all the light-footed grace of an Ent. (Though Bilbo could walk undetected, and it was simply the highlight of his day to walk up on Thorin unawares and scare him.)

The hobbit had been engrossed in writing his story. He hadn’t meant to go off Ori’s side of the events so much, but he realized how closely his brother’s story intertwined with his own.

Having kicked Thorin out when he began (the commentary was entirely too obnoxious and _unhelpful_ ), it startled him when he felt Thorin wrap his arms around his waist, and place his chin on Bilbo’s head. He scowled. “I hate it when you do that.” Bilbo felt rather then heard Thorin’s chuckle. The vibrations were comfortable against his back, and he learned into the embrace. Thorin moved his head to rest on Bilbo’s shoulder, in order to get a better look at the words on the page.

“I thought you were supposed to be writing Ori’s story.”

The hobbit in his arms groaned. “Don’t remind me. This turned into a monster.”

“I just think it’s funny you wound up focusing on ours.” Bilbo couldn’t resist a smile. “I realized how connected our paths had been that year. Also, he might forgive me a little more for releasing this about him to the public.”

Thorin outright laughed now. “He won’t forgive you.”

“A hobbit can dream.”

That caused another laugh, and then Thorin had to let go before Bilbo could successfully hit him. Instead he leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Well, you finished the story. It’s time we’re off now.” In agreement, Bilbo closed the story before him, and tucked the tome under his arm. He hopped off the chair and winced for the weight of the book.

“This weighs more than Frodo when he was a babe.” Bilbo complained to him. Rather than reply, Thorin simply took the book from his hobbit in a gesture to carry it for him. They had to meet Ori and Dwalin, to properly plan for the upcoming wedding. The courtship had just ended with a formal engagement, and the two had exactly six months until their wedding. Bilbo beamed at his suitor in thanks, and went to put on his jacket.

His good cheer was ruined when Thorin started walking toward the door, reading aloud from the novel. Bilbo cried out in indignation, and took off after his idiot of a lover. To any dwarrow walking near the Royal Quarters, the laughter from the Heir Apparent could be heard echoing while he read:

_“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single ~~man~~ dwarrow in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a ~~wife~~ partner.”                                                                                                                 _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Questions, Advice, Worries of Despair? Contact me through the messaging apparatus here, or message me on Tumblr, my URL is Jmiracles.


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